Falling
by jinx1764
Summary: Sarah has defeated the Goblin King, earning his anger and hatred. As he flies home, he sees how her actions have severely damaged the bridge connecting their worlds. As Bridge Keeper, he must repair it before the damage causes an apocalypse to their worlds. But it will take more than he expected; his journey will challenge everything he knows & feels. Slow burn J/S
1. Chapter 1

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><p><strong>Chapter One<strong>

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Their celebration insulted and infuriated him. How dare his subjects fête his defeat by this mortal girl. A woman child hardly able to understand the dire ramifications of her deed, yet she heedlessly rejoiced his trouncing without a thought for the future; any future—her friends', her's, and especially not his. In his owl aspect, Jareth watched through Sarah's bedroom window as her group of ridiculously loyal _friends _cavorted; the gnashing of his beak unnoticed by the shortsighted fools..._every last one_.

From the precise moment her footsteps paced upon his kingdom's grounds, Jareth perceived a shuddering in the foundation's fabrics. Her immediate and profound effect on his world fascinated and alarmed him. This mortal, this girl: She was different than the previous challengers, and despite his best efforts to impede her (going so far as to offer himself to the stupid chit) he learned how very right his instincts proved. He should have left her banished in the oubliette, to starve and rot forevermore, to be forgotten, rules be damned.

He sensed her victory over his labyrinth—while not the first, but unlike the others previously—would bring about such lasting changes to the Underground beyond even his great magic to command and restore. And here she sang and danced with his treasonous subjects, blissful, unaware. The urge to rend the tender flesh from her bones with his beak and talons sliced through him; he must leave this place or continue suffering silent indignities.

With an aggravated shriek, he shoved off the stout tree limb with his powerful legs and took wing back to his castle, deciding a long flight through the Veil separating their worlds, rather than the shorter, faster teleportation, would dissipate his rage. With an added benefit of overseeing the damage to the Bridge wrought by the girl. Aboveground nocturnal creatures felt and hid from his predatory presence as he swooped over land, gaining altitude towards the full moon.

_'How dare she; how dare she!' _

Echoed in his mind, his wings pumping rhythmically against the cool night air; her face, that of an angel disguised an immature, spoiled being thoughtless of her actions rippling through his world. Even now Jareth felt the damage from the Improbable Room reverberating in his bones, the magic she razed built upon itself, compounding. And none save him comprehended how this unique, silly girl unmade what those before could not...The sight greeting him as he overflew the Bridge through the Veil chilled his immortal soul. The Bridge connecting the Underground to the Abroveground, the aorta of magic allowing both worlds to live in vitality..._it was collapsing before his very eyes!_

Releasing a heartbroken raptor cry, Jareth increased his speed as he observed the tendrils of ancient magic fray, their bright lights fading, spiraling apart faster than any being known to him might ever repair. He never thought this possible! Corrupted, degraded...yes, but complete destruction? And it all started from Sarah's leap in the Improbable Room-the nexus of the Bridge in the Underground, Jareth's duty to protect. Feeling the ripples' epicenter, he knew it was all because of her. Somehow her innate magic and belief allowed her loophole action to annihilate eons of fae magic. What was it about this girl that made her so special, so different from other mortals?

Perhaps he might save portions if he returned in time; any surviving part could be used to rebuild the Bridge allowing the necessary magic to flow again. Both worlds required magic to thrive. The Underground was steeped in magic as a desert was soaked in sun, thriving off mortal dreams and aspirations to renew it, however, the Aboveground owned no true origin of magic, only a nexus from which the Bridge attached, allowing magic to free flow between worlds; without such connection...Jareth trembled mentally at the thought of the Aboveground's possible plight without a source of magic, and increased his flight speed.

'_Sarah, you willful, arrogant child, what have you done to us all?' _

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><p><strong>DON'T OWN ANY OF LABYRINTH OR ITS CHARACTERS...*SNIFF*<strong>

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><p><strong>AN: Like I don't have enough to do right? But this story popped into my head and I just had to run with it. I've been wanting (REALLY WANTING) to write a Laby story that:**

**-Neither Jareth or Sarah start off even liking each other. (but this is ultimately J/S :o)**

**-Apocalyptic (cause I love me apocalyptic movies/stories)**

**I have no idea how long this will be, but I do already have the basic plot and ending in my head. Might go long, might be shorter. I'm rating it M cause with this topic it'll give me the most freedom. With my handmade jewelry biz craft fair season officially starting this Sat...I'm sure my updates will be farther between, but I'm not stopping so have faith! **

**I know this first chapter is a major tease, hehe, but I would love to hear what ya'll think of the concept so far.**

**Jinx**

**:o)  
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	2. Chapter 2

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><p><strong>Chapter 2<strong>

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His flight home over the failing Bridge proved arduous, both physically and mentally. Realizing minutes counted, he spared a thought for his subjects still celebrating with Sarah, wondering if they might be trapped Aboveground should they choose to remain overlong.

_The fools best return as quickly as possible else they'll be spending a great deal longer as her guests then she expects,_ he thought with a bit of evil glee, hoping at least Hogbrain might accidentally be trapped. _That alone would make this epic disaster worthwhile._

Shaking off his distracting wishes, Jareth focused instead on his flying as the gray spires of his castle winked over the mottled horizon. The Underground's breaking dawn warmed the ancient stones, pricking out the magic liberally dusting the castle's surface, making it shimmer with the pinkish-yellow rays. Effects of the Bridge's failure had yet to reach his home, ironic since the damage started in the Improbable Room, the very core of his fortress; but that's how magic worked on occasion, reverberating backwards as the ripples gained strength upon one another. Soon, however, the damage would be felt and he needed to prepare.

With a piercing shriek, he arrowed down through the atmosphere, crisp air pummeling his slicked back wings as he plunged towards his throne room. Having made this mad dive many times in the past, it was nothing for him to became a snowy streak over the labyrinth targeted for the four foot diameter, round, open window; and time couldn't be wasted, he required assistance from the hated Triumvirate to repair such damage.

Passing the window's boundary, he transformed midair in a flurry of white feathers and cloth, landing upon his booted feet with a solid smack to the flagstone floor. Not bothering to pause, Jareth strode quickly (though he did not run, kings never ran, it exhibited untoward rashness to their subjects) to his great hall, shouting along the way.

"Alare! Jenea!" Before Jareth finished walking the length of the dining hall, his long legs devouring the distance easily, both his younger siblings materialized next to him. Jenea, his twin, prepared to berate him for stirring up the household. Interrupting her gaping mouth and Alare's upraised, accusatory hand, Jareth silenced them with a stern, regal look. Rarely did Jareth invoke his royal rights as Goblin King and eldest sibling upon them, that he did so now without a word bespoke of dire tidings.

"What is it, brother?" Jenea, the bravest when faced with Jareth's wrath, asked after her jaw snapped shut on her initial response to Jareth's commotion.

"Sister," he said, his mismatched eyes brimming with worry as he gripped her shoulders, all three halting.

_No, _she realized with a jolt, _worry is too weak a word for what swims in his eyes._

"The Bridge collapses as we speak!"

"No." The word whispered from her lips; she heard her second brother, the youngest of them, gasp beside her.

"It cannot be!" Alare said, grabbing Jareth's forearm, wrinkling the silk shirt heedlessly.

"It is, Alare, I have seen the damage myself," Jareth replied, his tone stoic, but Jenea saw the emotions he fiercely smashed behind his regal façade, the ones he rarely showed anyone, even his siblings. But Jenea was his twin, a rare occurrence in the Underground...that they were royalty, rarer still. She knew things about Jareth no one else in realm could hope to guess. Often to Jareth's chagrin, but occasionally his gratitude when she intuitively knew things which he did not consciously reveal.

"Alare," Jenea said, her voice as solid as her twin's meeting Jareth's eyes. "Contact the Triumvirate immediately."

"Me?" He squeaked. "You want me to do it?" Grasping the lapels of his waist coat, Jenea forced her little brother to look up with an abrupt shake.

"Pull yourself together, brother! We haven't a moment to lose!" Alare's lips gawked for a few seconds, and his eyes dilated, darting between his stern older siblings, then his backbone reestablished its position and he shook himself free of her.

"Alright, alright!" He snapped, brushing his lapels and resettling locks back into place with a disdainful sniff. "I'll contact the unstable freaks, but don't complain to me when they destroy everything."

"I'll control them, Alare," Jareth said. "Do as your sister requests and fetch them, quickly before the Bridge fails completely." A swift nod and Alare vanished in a puff of glitter. Turning to his sister, Jareth asked the question he wasn't sure he wanted answered.

"Jenea, did you sense any of my subjects cross back over to the Underground?"

"You mean the traitors running to that detestable girl?" She flicked her straight, platinum hair over her shoulder, pouting slightly.

"Who else has crossed recently?" he answered snidely, resisting the urge to grind his teeth. _I haven't time for your grandstanding, dear sister_.

"No one I am aware of, other than you of course."

"They've not returned? Any of them?" Forcing his voice to remain neutral, Jareth nevertheless could tell when Jenea saw how distressed he became, never could keep anything hidden from her for long.

"No, I don't believe so." Eyeing him keenly, she narrowed her lids at him-mismatched mirror images of his. "What do care for the betrayers? You should leave them to rot in the Aboveground."

_And Sarah thinks me cruel, _he thought, watching Jenea's scowl deepen, twisting her delicately beautiful face into a caricature.

"Jenea," he said, gripping her upper arms until he knew he left bruises. "You would do well to remember the sovereign duties of royalty."

"Jareth, you're hurting me." She tried backing away, tried to free her arms, her eyes fearful, and voice wavering.

"You may not be Goblin Queen in name," he replied in a low, vicious tone, "but you rule by my side as regent due your place as princess and my sister." He shook her once, sharply. "Do _not_ forget your place."

"You would treat me, your own blood, like a common street goblin, yet show concern for those traitors?" She whined, finally breaking free from Jareth's grip and stumbling back several feet, her face flushed and blotchy.

Advancing upon her, he spoke, "Have you no understanding of what occurs?" Her eyes blank of answers, he continued. "If- _no when_-the Bridge collapses and those traitors have no way back to the Underground, they will be trapped Aboveground for an unknown length of time."

"So?"

"So, dear sister, as beings of magic they cannot exist without a tether of magic. Its wisp will evaporate with the destruction of the Bridge; they will suffer and die a most terrible fate, far worst then even they deserve."

"But they did this!"

"_No_, she did this, Sarah. They only helped her out of mistaken altruism, which I could've forgiven after they spent a few years in an oubliette." Corrected, Jenea grew silent and they stood staring at each other for a few moments. Finally she spoke, tentatively.

"What will you do?"

"What I must. What I can." He shrugged, and she read near defeat in his movements which shocked her. "Once the Triumvirate arrives, I'll join with them to repair what I can. Hopefully we can rebuild the Bridge before it's permanently destroyed, before it damages the Aboveground beyond all hope."

Chin sinking to her chest, Jenea frowned, seemingly cognizant of the serious ramifications. "And what of us, if you cannot?"

Jareth shrugged again as if resigned. "The Underground will go on, but without the dreams and hopes of mortals to renew us, we will be stagnant."

"How could this happen? What did the brat do?"

"That, I do not know," he replied, baring his teeth in anger, fists clenching at his side, and Jenea witnessed his rage re-ignite at the mention of Sarah. "But I will discover her abilities if I must dissect her."

"And I will happily assist you, brother," she said, crowing under his palpable wrath. She loved witnessing the Goblin King's anger turned full force upon another-unstoppable, burning, searing-it awakened within her the other half of her soul.

"Come, Jenea." Reaching out, he offered his hand to escort her to the dungeons, "We must prepare for Alare's arrival with the Triumvirate. They will be most displeased if there is no suitable sacrifice awaiting them." With a broad smile, she accepted his hand just before he teleported them from the great dining hall to the dank dungeons below the castle beyond the Goblin City.

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><p><strong>Roronoa Emi: <strong>LOL, well I hope you've caught up by now. This got massively delayed. Thanks! I'm glad you think all my stories are 'wonderfully interesting'!

**Angelus Draco: **True, but then all first chapters should be a good tease, right?

**HachimansKitsune: **Thanks, well the Bridge itself isn't completely new, but the twist I'm putting on it is. I do like owl-Jareth too...poor little guy...

**futrCSI1490: **awww...thank you! Well, this got delayed because of NaNo and my original fiction, but I'm getting my groove back. And it'll be fun getting them together, hehehe

**Lynrinth: **It does take you over. I have checked out a lot of the older sites. I did that years ago while I was still a lurker, thanks!

**Autumn O'Shea Swan: **I know...I can't help it. When I have an idea...But this is an idea I could probably covert to an original fiction and I'm thinking I might do that. I know you are and I'm always grateful!

**Belladonna925: **Thank you! Such a wonderful compliment!

**Shenlong Girl: **Uh-oh is probably a good reaction so far.

**startraveller776: **Thanks! It'll be fun to get them from point a to point z, hehe!

**Ilhja: **Sorry it took so long to update, but he gets back sort of in time...sort of...

**blackrosebleeding13: **well, Sarah does know what's she's done at this point.

**Estelledusk: **yes, mutli-chap, I just got delayed for a bit, sorry!

**buffyrae: **I hadn't read it until you posted then I did. That's the great thing about titles-they can't be copyrighted otherwise we would've run out of great story names decades ago.

**Kagome Pureheart: **Yes, yes he does.

**moira hawthorne: **Yeah that's the premise. They're both very much enemies with big reasons to hate and distrust each other.

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><p><strong>AN: **Sorry this took so long to update and I'm still working on "king". NaNoWriMo took over my life in November and so has my original fiction. I have every intention to continue my Laby fics but things have gotten complicated. In a good way. My sci-fi fic 'Dreams of the Queen' just got accepted onto Project Fiction . org last week which only accepts well-written, unique, good fiction - so yeah! I've submitted two of my short stories to pro magazines last week (flashfiction and Asimov) and am waiting to hear back if they're accepted. *fingers crossed* And I self-published a third short story onto Amazon's Kindle last week (which is only competing on fiction press's Dec. writing challenge - result after the 14th) Good news is I've already sold 3 copies of my short story on Kindle since Dec 6 (a whole $1.04 in royalties, lol!) I've also submitted my Laby fic "Within Dreams" to Fuck Yeah, Labyrinth's contest this month and hope to hear their result by Jan (their words) So it's been a busy month for me and that doesn't include my job or my jewelry business.

Anywho...these chapters will probably be short but packed and I'm not sure how long this will be. I'm about six chaps in so far without editing but I'm hoping to get back into my groove now.

**Enjoy!**

**Jinx**

**:o)  
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	3. Chapter 3

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><p><strong>Chapter 3<strong>

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Alare materialized into the castle's dungeon, panting and cursing Jareth's name and title. He scrambled behind his older siblings, standing side-by-side in the main entrance, the numerous cells running in a long line abreast of them. Left brow quirking at his brother's behavior, Jareth otherwise kept forward facing. Jenea stood at his side, both dressed in royal goblin regalia with their hands joined and upraised to mid-chest in solidarity. Little time remained as the Triumvirate would appear on Alare's coat-tails.

"Gods, I hate dealing with them," Alare mumbled from his moderately safer position hovering behind Jareth and Jenea. Not exactly crouching (he convinced himself) he refused to be in front when the creatures responded to his delivered summons. Those things gave him the creepy-crawlies; Alare shivered at merely thinking of them. Being the stuff of nightmares, the Triumvirate were everlasting, all knowing, and linked to powers beyond the natural range of Underground magics. All but the most powerful feared them, and even they held them in distant respect.

"Courage, Alare," Jareth said, sensing the building presence of the beings' arrival. "We mustn't show them our nerves." Meanwhile, he gripped Jenea's knuckles a bit tighter, his leather glove creaking and felt Jenea's hand quaking within his.

"Easy for you to say, Goblin King," Alare said in a whispered hiss behind him as he forced himself to stand upright. "You've got all the power and magics of the throne behind you, what've I got besides my own magic? They could suck me dry on a whim."

"True, but then they'd have to deal with a very put out Goblin King."

"Hush, both of you." Jenea jerked her head at them, feeling the air pressure expand and her ears pop. Her brothers obeyed immediately, dropping their teasing as they sensed the same changes as she.

Before their eyes, only feet away, a rift split the air. Ruddy lightening crackled from grimy stone floor to ceiling in every direction, sending zaps of static electricity to every solid object in the room-especially the three fae. Prepared, Jareth's magic interrupted the jagged lines at a protective, magical barrier surrounding him and his siblings. Full protection, however, was impossible; and each zipping bout caused low level pain. Clenched jaws prevented painful outcries, for if the beings detected any weakness they might claim any one of them as Blood Sacrifice-even the Goblin King.

The scarlet rift widened, creating a ragged doorway which exposed a swirling, kaleidoscope vortex beyond. In front, Jareth and Jenea resisted the magnetic urge to gaze into the vertigoes hole welling before them. While they only dealt with the Triumvirate a handful of times in the last five hundred years, all three siblings understood the dangers of the unprepared and foolhardy-especially Alare who still suffered nightmares from his first exposure to them as a child. Jareth heard his brother's shallow, rapid breathing directly behind him. It staggered and paused a few seconds when the first scaly, dark being stepped through dimensional portal-ebony scales, reddish, translucent fangs, glowing eyes and cloven feet revealed one slow inch at a time.

_Steady on, _Jareth mentally sent his brother, wishing for telepathy, and struggled for his own straw of reassurance. Few things rattled his courage, yet dealing with such vile beings existing between dimensions was enough to unnerve the strongest fae's valor. If only he knew another way; if only his powers were enough to repair the damage without _their_ help. If only Sarah hadn't refused him. Jareth ground his teeth harder thinking of the girl who should've forgotten everything, who should've been lost to his labyrinth forever; the girl who _should not_ have possessed the ability to unravel that which stood for millennia. _I swear on my crown, Sarah Williams, if we meet again you will understand the true nature of my generosity. _His oath and rage battered his skull, distracting him for a few seconds from the single creature standing, partially hunched, and staring at him.

Two more similarly formed creatures followed the first, red sparks connecting haphazardly to them and surrounding area. Only Jareth's shields prevented the forces laying waste to them personally. In dismay, the siblings watched as ancient mortar cracked and dusted beneath the onslaught, littering the floor in various sized piles. Several large chunks of stone also broke free, shattering with a harsh grinding. The very foundations of the castle vibrated suddenly, startling Jareth.

_Good gods, the ripples are reaching the castle! _ _Once they return to the Improbable Room the damage to the Bridge will be permanent, _he thought, glancing beyond the horror entering his domain, wishing to speed this ritual. The Triumvirates' great hooves slammed to the floor, one after the other, creating their own vibrations and bass echoes. The sound and shaking snapped his attention back to the matter at hand, greeting the infamous Triumvirate of the Vortex.

"Goblin King," the largest of the three spoke. His grating, hissing voice sent tendrils of cold over Jareth's skin, and knew his siblings felt the same. Jenea's repressed shiver reverberated through his hand still held high in regal fashion, and he heard Alare's faint, choked gurgle behind him.

"Your youngesst to assked our aid?" The creature's reptilian head cocked sharply to one side, making it head spines quiver. Its large, globular, pupil-less eyes absorbed any available light; their transparent lids rapidly blinked several times, snicking loudly over the static generated by the portal. Only a few feet separated them from the fae, and Jareth quashed his sudden urge to back away from the foul beings polluting the area before them. Their queer magic twisting the fabric of the Underground.

"He did, Ancient." He inclined he head slightly, showing respect, however reluctant. "Our time is short; you must feel the cords of the Bridge failing as we speak."

"Yess, it rippless throughout even our world."

"We shiver with anticipation for the mortal nightmares ssure to follow," a second one said, its black, forked tongue snaking out to taste the air with a loud _slurp_. "Even you, Goblin King, ssmell of fear." All three weaved back and forth like cobras preparing to strike, half-crouching, sharp-clawed hands outstretched and reaching.

"Why sshould we stop that which will bring uss ssuch delicious sustenance?"

"Because without the Bridge both our realms will lose touch with the mortal world, even yours," Jareth said, dropping Jenea's hand, his hands fisting at his sides. In the corner of his eye, his sister maintained a rigid mask.

"We shall go on, Goblin King, there are nightmaress aplenty in your realm, and magic everlassting."

"_Enough_!" He took a threatening step forward, his boot stomping harsh upon the floor, his cloak swirling. "I tire of your insolence. Will you assist us or not?"

"Sire..." Jenea spoke softly. It unwise to threaten the Triumvirate; their powers extended into the Underground, beyond even the Goblin King's reach. Jaw and fists clenched, he looked at his sister, reading the caution she willed to him. Catching a glimpse of Alare's blanched face as he stood stiffly, fearfully, Jareth reined in his temper with a shuddering breath before facing the beasts again.

"What have you for a Blood Ssacrifisse, Goblin King?" the first asked arrogantly as if Jareth never threatened them.

"We do nothing for physsically bound entitiess without the prisse," the third said.

"The bequesst musst be given by the petitioner." Each beast spoke its part, head tilting and swaying, bulbous eyes flicking in the portal's reddish light.

Chin jutting, Jareth motioned towards the narrow hall of cells extending beyond their position. "I give you choice of any in my dungeon."

While he didn't remember the exact count or description of his dungeon's current occupants, a variety of prisoners were always in residence-offences ranging from tax debt to treason. Surly a choice existed to satisfy these base creatures, though he preferred not thinking overlong of his terrible option. With a joined, triple snarl, the Triumvirate turned as one and walked down the aisle, their heavy, cloven feet fracturing stone which each pounding stomp. The three fae deliberately avoided looking within the saturnine depths active portal swirling with zaps of lightening and blinks of wavering color.

"I hope we have something to their liking," Jenea whispered, her attention pinned to the demons investigating each cell with their baleful eyes and sniffing tongues. A chorus of shrieks and screams filtered back and increased as the Triumvirate continued to the end of the hall. The distress of the inmates grew as they realized their plight, and soon the sound equaled that of the Triumvirate and their portal. Worried, Jareth glanced at his sister as she continued.

"It's not as if we planned ahead for this as we are wont to do normally."

"True; I'm sure they'll find a suitable morsel," he replied, frowning, disliking this portion even more than speaking directly with the things. Usually he located a single resident either in his kingdom or a neighboring one sentenced to death before summoning the Triumvirate. To allow the beasts free choice was unheard of, but necessary given the emergency; and as if in agreement, the castle shimmed again, longer, the ripples drawing closer. Jareth forced down on his anxiety, kept his face stoic.

"Oh Gods," Alare said in a restrained squeak threatening to increase in pitch. Jareth felt his brother tug slightly on his cape. "They're coming back!" The clomping of their hooves signaled Alare's correct assessment, and all silenced, preparing to face the decision. The oblivious leader of the three centered on Jareth, its tongue flicking in and out repeatedly until Jareth feared be hypnotized. Finally the beast spoke:

"We will take all of your offeringss."

"All? But there must be more than two dozen under the Crown's punishment!"

"Two dozen and five," the leader responded with a strange extended hiss.

_Is the thing laughing at me? _Jareth wondered, wanting to strike out.

"You want them all?" Jenea blurted, stunned, never had such a huge offering been demanded or offered. That she spoke showed her incredulity since it was Jareth's place, as king, to speak for them.

"All or we refuse," it said, cocking its head at her, the wheezing hiss repeating.

"May the gods banish you to the deepest pits of hell," Jareth said in a cold, firm voice, his eyes never wavering from the beasts. With the echoing screams of his punished subjects pounding at his ears, Jareth spent valuable seconds debating, uncertain where his morality lie in the equation. Kings were always required to make terrible decisions. Prepared to sacrifice one, perhaps two, in the name of the greater good for all their realms, he never imagined more. How could he live with so many deaths on his conscious, and he was certain none with death sentences. _May the gods forgive me._

"Ass may be, Goblin King, what ssay you?" It asked; he heard impatience in the nightmare's voice, or perhaps a shiver of eagerness?

_Good gods, what will they do with them? _As if reading his mind, Jenea slipped her hand around his clenched fist at his flank, her warmth seeping through his gloves. For a moment, the merest second, he spared her a look, and her reversed matching eyes told him all.

_Yes, _she told him silently. _Do what you must. We'll understand and support you, and those who don't will be made to understand the dire consequences. _Swallowing hard, he turned to the madness and answered in a bold voice:

"Up hold your bargain immediately and you may take all in my dungeon cells under your power as Blood Sacrifice."

"Done and done," the lead one bowed his slick, reptilian back head once. "The Triumvirate will sspin new webss for your Bridge through the Void while you, Goblin King, will anchor your magic to the new foundationss."

"Understood."

It grinned suddenly, exhibiting its translucent, dagger teeth; and the wails of Jareth's inmates abruptly cut off, leaving only the crackling of the portal behind. "We will fetch you when it iss your time to begin your repairss." As one, the three turned towards the open portal, "Until then, Goblin King..."

"I'll be ready. Do your work quickly; there's little time."

"_Do not_ tell uss our businesss," one said, it rigid face somehow sneering over his shoulder just before he disappeared through the portal. The hole zipped shut in an instant, taking all the red static and leaving an uncomfortable peace.

"Thank the gods it's over!" Alare said, releasing a deep breath. Jareth suspected he held once the prisoners were seized.

"Alare," Jareth spun on his brother, "prepare for my absence. Likely I will be gone for some time making repairs."

"Jareth." Jenea gripped his forearm, her eyes boggled in fear. "You can't mean to listen to these creatures; it must be a trap!" Taking her hand lightly in his, he pulled her close, and wrapped his arm around her waist.

"Sister, I do mean to listen. I knew this when I instructed Alare to bring them."

"_What_? But Jareth..."

"I'm going; I must." He looked to Alare's stricken face, tears collecting in his tender-hearted brother's eyes, his lower lip quivering. "As Goblin King and Keeper of the Bridge, I'm responsible for its good condition and repair." Placing a hand on Alare's shoulder, he pulled him close as well. "I _will_ return once the repairs are complete. Do not fear."

"Yes, brother." Both Jenea and Alare nodded, Jenea with a sterner upper lip than her younger brother, who nevertheless tried wearing a brave face.

"Until then, you're both tasked as regrets in my absence." Jareth manifested a crystal which recorded his intentions.

"How long?" Jenea asked, grudgingly taking the crystal just as the castle shuddered a third time, more violently. All three scanned the walls and ceiling, wary.

"I can't be sure. Time moves differently between realms, you know, and with the damage it may be further skewed."

"Jareth..." Alare started then faltered when the portal returned with a sizzle. The siblings pivoted in place with Jareth placing himself in front.

"It iss time, Goblin King," the leader said and Jareth nodded. Wordlessly, he gave Alare and Jenea a last glance before striding staunchly forward.

"Lead on," he told the beast who seemed to snicker between his hisses as they walked through the second portal and disappeared.

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><p><strong>Little Margarita: <strong>The Triumvirate are serious business...*shudder* as for Jenea...well...she is Jareth's twin. I wouldn't want to piss either on off. LOL. Glad you're liking it so far. As for Sarah, it'll be a few more chapters before she shows up. And, as usual, there's my cool twists to the story.

**Angelus Draco: **Thanks! Awww...unfair huh? Maybe, maybe not. I guess we'll have to find out. Muhahahaha!

**Buffy: **LOL, I know! I just meant that it is good that title can't be copyrighted otherwise we'd have run out of good titles decades ago. Glad you're getting excited about this one. I am too. So much so that I'm tossing around the idea to rewrite it for an original version since I love end of the world stories. I do like writing Jareth and this story tends to focus more on Jareth than Sarah. At least at first. I haven't really decided if I'll get into Sarah's head later on, probably but it would be interesting to just write it from J's pov.

**Shenlong Girl: **Thanks! It's fun to play around with the dynamics and such. And I do enjoy creating OC's.

**moira hawthorne: **Evil/mad/angry Jareth is fun to write and it'll get more fun as we go along, muhahaha! As for your earlier question (which I messaged but I'll answer again for others) I'm not knowingly using the name Jenea or twin from another author, though I know others have given him a twin before. There's been so much written I'm sure there's overlap, but my OC's was intended as my own creation.

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><p><strong>AN: Hey all! My writing pace is back on track! Plus I'll probably be writing more often now since I'm *sniff* injured from work. I have a lumber 5 fracture. Overall doing okay but can't work on the ambulance right now, see a spine dr next week for treatment plan. Argh! 18+ yrs on the ambulance will break down a person. **

**On a lighter note, if ya'll are enjoying this fic give me a hollar! This got a lot of attention right off and faves and even a C2 but I'm hardly getting any feedback now which is a bit demoralizing (I admit it) My original fiction has really been pulling my attention so I need all the motivation I can get right now. Hope everyone enjoyed their Christmas and Have a Happy New Year!**

**Enjoy!**

**Jinx**

**:o)**


	4. Chapter 4

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><p><strong>Chapter 4<strong>

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Wearing basic black leathers, Jareth floated in the Void above the Bridge and watched the Triumvirate work, mending the frayed and dangling threads of magic from their very flesh. They pulled glowing tendrils from their claws, spinning the foundation anew then skittering forward like giant insects to repeat the action. Following behind the three, Jareth started with the core of the Improbable Room, re-anchoring it to the new cords and cables of the growing Bridge with his magic imbued to him as Goblin King and Keeper of the Bridge. Each anchor started with a crystal which he melded into the healthy threads, stretched outwards and melded to the next crystal, again and again extending from the his castle, into the Void and towards the Veil where the Aboveground waited on the opposite side.

Exhausting work, Jareth refused to think of how long before they reached the end of the Bridge, and stabilized it to the Aboveground Nexus. Every moment the Bridge drifted damaged through the Void was another moment it might collapse; he had no time for rest. He would give his last if it meant the security of both worlds. As for Hoggle and the rest of the traitors, he assumed them trapped in the Aboveground, lost to their essential magic until he finished his task.

_As much as I wish to punish them, they don't deserve such a fate, wasting away as if suffocating._ _Though perhaps I can spare them if the Triumvirate reach the Aboveground in time._

And if not...

_And why wouldn't the Triumvirate be able to? _ _After such a large Blood Sacrifice they'd better finish this quickly or I'll yank each scale out personally!_

Keeping his distance behind the beasts crawling over the scintillating fibers, Jareth worked quickly, his bare hands touching raw magic, melding it then conjuring more. Eventually his thoughts floated from what-if's and narrowed only to the job in front of him. Without gloves, his hands blistered and swelled from the intense and unrelenting magic use; staring at the unwavering glow made his eyes water and itch and crawling cramped his back. His knees ached and muscles spasmed, but Jareth kept moving, kept working: conjure, meld, stretch, crawl, conjure, meld, stretch, crawl.

His essence as Goblin King and Keeper of the Bridge was the identical to the Underground, and attaching one to the other-using himself as intermediary- made the repairs permanent. _As permanent as before at least, _he mused. During his work he did his best to keep on guard from the Triumvirate, making already fatiguing work doubling exhausting. He didn't trust them, however, and being alone with them in the Void gave them far too many opportunities for ill deeds.

"We are done." A voice said, snapping him from his stupor. Rocking back on his heels, the glowing magic fuzzing his vision, Jareth looked up at the Triumvirate ranged in a horse-shoe around him. When had they approached so closely without his knowing? Frowning, he pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to clear a sudden, stabbing pain in the center of his forehead. The skin on his palm itched and burned as it crinkled. Looking past the creatures, he saw they neared the end of the Bridge-had they worked so far?-but a gap remained.

"What do you mean 'done'? I can see it's not complete." He pointed to the stump of his neatly organized work leading to the dark gap of nothingness, and the snarl of tattered lines glimmering on the far side: the Nexus leading into the Aboveground. The three creatures laughed: hissing, wheezing sounds plucking his sensitized nerves. Their bulbous eyes were unblinking and their tongues slithered over their dagger-teeth.

"We did not ssay it iss done," the leader said. "That is your job for we cannot go Aboveground."

"What do you mean?" Jareth stood, his muscles protesting the change after so long. Wary, he backed from the reptilian creatures. He most certainly did _not_ like the sound of this. "You said nothing of me going Aboveground." The leader moved a pace closer, its hoof agitating the new magic, creating whorls and sparks. Its grin widened until Jareth thought he might be contemplating devouring him.

"Did we not explain thiss part, Goblin King?" It sounded sarcastic to Jareth.

"We cannot touch the Nexuss," the second creature said, head cocking, hissing louder.

"Only a fae may interact directly with the magic of the Nexuss," the third and farthest back said, closing in with its brethren. Steadily, the Triumvirate surrounded him on the narrow foundation of the Bridge. Drained to the limit, Jareth's attempt to levitate or transform failed, trapping him between the three beasts. Panic truly set in once he realized his powerlessness. Partially crouched, center of gravity lowered, he tried to fend off their approach.

"What are you doing?" His voice rose in pitch as his adrenaline kicked in, but having used too much magic, his power stayed unaffected. Unable to free himself, the Triumvirate captured and reined him in. Their combined physical strength overwhelming his weakened state, even without their currently superior magic. Glowing threads flew from their claws, winding around him, binding him faster than two of his shocked gasps. Twisting and struggling, Jareth hung in mid-air as the Triumvirate tightened the net.

"Unbind me!" he said, long hair flying wildly.

"The Goblin King iss Keeper of the Bridge..."

"It iss he who must find the new Nexuss..."

"...reesstablish the connection..."

"...repair it..."

"...rebuild it..."

"Unhand me!" he shouted as they grappled him down to the glowing foundations of the Bridge. Bound and helpless, he was easily subdued face down into the sticky threads of magic, sparkling rivulets clung to his hair and stung his eyes as the Triumvirate mashed him into the threads. He felt it crawl into his mouth, seeking out its original source, and choke off his vocal cords. If only he could reabsorb the magic, re-meld it to his needs and free himself. Rage flared hot as he bore the humiliation of being held prone while the three beasts continued speaking; he hardly heard their words.

"You will need certain toolss to asssist you." They each spoke in turn as Jareth felt them manhandle him, poking and prodding his clothing. He swore to the gods he would roast these creatures alive his first chance.

"We will provide them..."

"...be without your greater magics ..."

"...will ssuffer and die without the Bridge..."

"Time will pass wrong until the connection is remade ..."

"...hurry..."

"Find the new Nexus...

"Finish the connection, and all will be sset to rights..."

"The Bridge made anew."

"Underground and Aboveground as one..."

"Hurry, Goblin King...hurry..."

Struggling, Jareth kicked and flailed unsuccessfully, their claws and the sticky magic holding him down until he felt a sudden weightlessness. _They're picking me up! _Before he could process the ramifications, the Triumvirate lifted him from the new foundation of the partially completed Bridge and, as one, flung him over the cliff edge towards the ragged, sparking mess of Aboveground Nexus. Tumbling over the open, bottomless gap in the Void, bound and gagged by the strands of magic, he was denied cursing the beasts tossing him away as if refuse. Head over feet, unable to wiggle free, he spun towards the destroyed Aboveground end of the Bridge. Without enough magic, his fate was as far from his control as his trajectory.

_Good gods, what have I done? _He thought frantically, fighting to regain any physical control, seeing the mangled glowing tree-like roots of Nexus looming closer. If he parted through the Veil into the Aboveground without the repaired Bridge in place, he would be trapped like the traitors! _Jenea, Alare, forgive my arrogance. _He sent out through the Ether, begging the gods to spare his siblings the destiny he failed to avert. What would happen to him, to them? He schooled his fear while he drifted into the damaged tendrils, felt the Nexus tugging at his fae magic, stripping it from his soul. Frightened beyond rationality, and alone, Jareth regressed to his childhood, before Alare's birth-a time when he and Jenea hid in the forest from Hunters.

_Separated from their parents during an ambush by a neighboring kingdom intent on conquest, he and Jenea ran for hours from the enemy king's Hunters. They ran until they exhausted their magic then hid, bundled together in an outcropping overnight, until the Hunters found them at dawn. Shivering and sobbing, they fought back to back, killing several with their royal daggers but were ultimately overpowered. In the midst of their kidnapping, their father's Hunters arrived and slaughtered the enemy soldiers, their blood drenching the forest floor. It was the first time Jareth ever experienced a loss of his magic through exhaustion, and until the Triumvirate, he specifically planned his life to never feel such helplessness again._

_Not again, please gods, not again! _He sobbed, once again that frightened boy. Minutes became hours as he spiraled down through the twisted end of the ruined Nexus. Tears drying to his skin, he shoved his emotions and memories away; instead observing and sensing the Nexus magic up close. At this proximity, he understood it couldn't be used again, spoiled beyond repair, the beasts were correct. A new Nexus needed to be found and formed.

And what had they said? He dug out his piece-mealed thoughts during their betrayal. How was he to find the new one and reestablish the Bridge? He knew nothing of locating a Nexus. That was magic for the Ancients, the Triumvirate, yet they left it to him? Other bits of what they said came to him, made him shiver.

How long could a fae without magic live in Aboveground? What would this new world look like, be like? Whatever it contained it wouldn't be fae friendly, of that Jareth was positive. He only hoped he might be able to locate this Nexus in a timely manner, make the final repairs to the Bridge and return home quickly, for he already felt the strain on his psyche. Drifting powerless through the Veil, he felt it roughly part for him in a primitive manner. Without magic, his body forced its way through, bruising it, and he jerked into the Aboveground and fell as gravity found him. He fell until he forgot anything but falling existed.

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><p><strong>Joie Cullen: <strong>I agree! Jareth is sexy all the time! I especially like me a slightly helpless Jareth/mortal/mortalized Jareth. I guess that's why I tend to mess with him so much, lol! Thanks, hope you enjoy this chapter, too. As for the T, they're bad, but as you can see, not the way you think. Sarah stays in the Aboveground, but that's not really a good thing.

**futrCSI1490: **It's okay, :o) I've been so busy myself the last two months that I think people have forgotten about me. NaNo really messed up my fanfic writing, but I'm also really into my original fic now to. I won't say I'll stop writing fanfic (ahhh) but when the bug to write whatever bites you, it bites hard. I've posted 9 of Dreams of the Queen and I'm writing 14, and editing the rest. I'd say I'm about half way through and plan on self pubbing some time this year when I'm done. Glad you're still enjoying Falling, cause I'm enjoying writing it. It's different than anything else I've written. Hope your Christmas and New Year's was great!

**Autumn O'Shea Swan: **Thanks, yeah, another thing we sort of have in common, lol! Stupid spinal injuries. I'm currently on the couch enjoying my Ultram. I was out and about more yesterday and my back really started to hurt, so I'm resting today. Once I see the new doc Wed, I'll know more and I have faith I'll be healed up in a few months. But damn, the last three years have been hell on my health. Like we both know, never can take it for granted. Glad you're enjoying the story and things are really going to get interesting next chapter. :o)

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><p><strong>AN: Thanks for all the well wishes and hope every had a Merry Christmas and Happy and Safe New Year! So poor Jareth is in a pickle! What's he going to find in the Aboveground? Probably nothing he'll expect. Things are about to get really interesting as Jareth begins his involuntary quest. Stayed tuned! And Thanks to all who reviewed, helps keep me motivated but, as you know, I still love to write!**

**Enjoy!**

**Jinx**

**:o)  
><strong>


	5. Chapter 5

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><p><strong>Chapter 5<strong>

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His first conscious sensation was thirst, followed closely by the realization of his prone position on the some flat surface. A very dry surface infested with dust infiltrating his nostrils and caking his mouth with every inhalation, thus triggering a coughing fit and rapid roll to his back. Head lolling and arms flopping to his sides, Jareth lay flaccid in what was evidently a supremely bright environment prompting him to immediately slam his eyes shut at the invasion of concentrated daylight and the heat...

"Good gods," he mumbled, feeling his chapped lips split open with a vicious sting. He licked them, instantly regretting it when the stinging increased. He flung one arm over his eyes to block the intense UV assault since his eyelids were too thin, and the red glow through his skin burned his retinas.

_Where the name of Danu am I? Feels like the bloody Sahara. _

He'd collected children from the Great Desert on occasion, and he preferred avoiding the desolate location. With a deep groan and prayer to the gods to protect his eyes, Jareth used his hands as sunshades and cautiously cracked his lids. Sitting up, what he saw shocked him. It wasn't the Sahara. It appeared to be an average sized American town, if the street signs were accurate. And he sat in the middle of one of those streets, the asphalt's heat seeping through his leathers the longer he stayed immobile.

"Ah ... hot, hot!" Jumping to his feet, he shook off the burn by stomping his thick soled boots and slapping his thighs and buttocks while cursing. Little by little his skin cooled, or at least felt less hot. "Bloody hell!"

Squinting, he saw dirt and dust blowing over everything, coating the streets, buildings and cars. And why were so many cars, owed by automobile-obsessed Americans, sitting at odd angles with their doors and trucks ajar? For that matter, being midday, where were all the people? He took a few hesitate steps, spun then walked back. The blanket of smothering silence over the town, instead of the mortal daytime hustle, unnerved him. But most dire, why did the air, the very breath in front of his face, sear too brightly like overexposed human photography-which he studied years ago when he fancied it for a time.

Everything, everywhere he looked, scorched his eyes. Color leached from objects, made focusing difficult as if reality shifted or was out of phase with itself. And the sky, _Great Danu, _an unnatural yellow tinge bled overhead, melting from the too vivid sun and spreading to all horizons. No clouds blockaded the foreign, sickly thing previously a blue sky.

A headache tweaked behind his eyes, translating rapidly into nausea the longer he stared at the altered world. It felt the pain ricochet back and forth from his head to his stomach, escalating with each cycle, and he'd barely done more than stand. That realization brought him no joy as merely existing in this ravaged landscape made him ill. How in the name of Danu would he be able to survive? Without magic?

_First, I must get out of this horrible light and heat then find water or anything drinkable. _

Considering his priorities, he forced his legs to move, knees buckling slightly as he strode in a random direction causing dust to fly haphazardly, further coating his black leathers. A small business to one side of the road caught his attention, its grimy glass and metal door banging open randomly with the strong wind gusts. A haggard sign atop a fifteen foot pole read, 'Cum and Go', and Jareth, in the midst of his shock and misery, found this darkly humorous. A wry smile and snort escaped him.

_Humans, at least they are endlessly amusing. _

Straining through half closed lids, he stumbled through the door, and waited for his eyes to adjust to the extreme light difference before scanning the gloomy interior for possible threats. Though the odd double exposure effect happened inside as well, the sun and sky's dual intensity didn't penetrate indoors. It was empty save for scavenged convenience store shelves; opened packaging, snack wrappers, and other debris littered the institutional-ish, tile floor.

Of course, dust encrusted every surface, and no electricity hummed pleasantly in the background. Another facet worrying him; modern humans rarely tolerated a lack of electricity. And he found the darkness an inconvenience. By habit, he twisted his wrist to produce a crystal for light, and was shocked when his hand remained empty until he recalled a bit of what the Triumvirate explained before they cast him off.

"_You will be without your greater magics." _

"Bloody hell!" Empty fist clenched, he ground his teeth. What else had the bastards said? Something about suffering and death, finding the new Nexus, reestablishing the connection and wonky time, he recalled.

"But first I would greatly desire a drink!" he said aloud, his gaze combing the mostly bare shelves for anything functional or useful left behind. Stalking the aisles, Jareth caught sight of his dim reflection in the dingy glass refrigerator doors, obviously long deactivated and stripped by their decrepit, unpowered condition. He froze and scowled at himself. How incongruous he looked dressed in raggedy, filthy leathers, his once black finery now ruined while he hunted for remaining sundries in an abandoned Aboveground mom and pop store. _Ridiculous_.

Using his forearm, he swept the top shelf clear with a growl, knocking broken, rotten bits and pieces to the floor. Large chunks of broken brick lie near one booted toe; incensed, he grasped and heaved one into the offensive ghostly mirror image, howling in animalistic frustration and rage. The glass shattered in long shards, breaking like a crystal waterfall to pile upon the bland floor.

"No magic! No water! How am I to find this Nexus if I cannot survive on day in this hell?" Arms outstretched, he shouted to the heartless ceiling, its rectangle tiles long since displaced from their metal frames. An answering pulse flared at his left hip and he started at the feel of magic, its zapping ripple coursing through him like a tsunami in comparison to the cursed desert surrounding him. And he'd only been stripped of it for a short time.

Fingers fumbling at his belt, he located the source inside a pouch he didn't remember owning. Another Triumvirate trick? Or perhaps help? Being forever trapped-alone-in a devastated, magic–less Aboveground didn't appeal, therefore he was willing to risk a trap. Within the simple leather pouch, he found a softly serrated, red rock about the size of his palm. It pulsed with a slow, steady internal glow, once every ten seconds by his count. Cool to the touch, it reminded him of the Aboveground volcanic rock, obsidian.

_It must be from the Triumvirate. I feel the hum of their magic on it. _

And that's when he figured out he could still sense magic regardless of his own being currently lost. He perched the crystal on his fingertips, and brought it eye level, studying it. If he could sense magic then he was still fae, and only cut off from his own magic due to the damaged Bridge until he completed his involuntary quest. However, if magic was cut off from the Aboveground, how did the magic of this crystal work? He frowned, the rock stubbornly resisting his best glower, keeping its secrets. Another mystery of the beasts whose magic differed so greatly from fae magic, he guessed. The Ancient Triumvirate claimed many secrets and differences.

"But you," he spoke to the flashing fist-sized nugget on his fingers, "little rock, I believe you'll be leading me to the Nexus somehow, hmm?" He pursed his lips, but the crystal didn't answer other then continue it persistent blinking.

"Very well, keep your secrets. I'll crack you later." Jareth tossed it up, caught it, rolled it over his hand then slipped it back into the pouch in one smooth motion, smirking. "But first, little rock, I must find supplies before I consult you again."

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><p><strong>JSJSJ<strong>

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Further searching of the store, and eventually the surrounding area, revealed the town to be truly abandoned and heavily foraged. In the fourth store, he was fortunate to discover one large bottle of water which had rolled beneath a display mimicking the leaning tower of Pisa. He also found various, pre-packaged bars of a granola type substance which he decided to put off eating until he was far more desperate. Whatever flavor they were, one sniff convinced him the humans deliberately left these behind.

Appropriate clothing was next on his list. Whatever the state of humans currently, he doubted any would take well to his casual Goblin King appearance. So when he located a long sleeved, flannel shirt with minor damage from someone's ransacked bedroom, he half-heartedly changed into it. He might look more acceptable but he felt odd. Then he packed his leather tunic and black under silk shirt into an old duffel bag found discarded in the corner of the vacant bedroom.

Checking his appearance in a vanity mirror, he decided he might pass for human, if one ignored his fine bone structure, vaguely pointed ears and unusual, long platinum hair. Running his fingers through it, Jareth worked out the worse snarls. Checking his eyes, he noticed they remained their usual mismatched color, but his natural, iridescent sheen was dulled to nearly human tones. Was it due to his lack of magic, the extreme climate conditions, or the odd color leaching of this damaged world? He didn't know which, but as long he passed for human he figured it worked-assuming he met any humans. That was another thought ... with the extensive changes had any human survived?

_I suppose I'll soon find out._

"At least I get to wear my boots and pants." He groused, looking down at the black leather caked from the blowing grime outside. _I wish I had my gloves, _he thought as he examined his hands. The blisters from the raw magic were healing well, as if days elapsed. Strange ... then he shrugged, having more important matters on his mind. Perhaps he might find human gloves to protect his sensitive hands while they finished healing. He often saw humans doing that, and in this harsh, foreign environment, he'd need all the protection he could get.

Picking up his duffel bag filled with his few, but varied, supplies collected as he explored, Jareth slung it over his shoulder. He palmed the crystal in his left hand, hoping for a clue. Sitting in the center of his hand, it blinked its lazy red rhythm. Uncertain what else to do, he walked from the house to the open road and headed in a random direction when he noticed the crystal's blink slowing.

"Curious, you don't you like this way?" Panning around in place, he watched it keenly for any sign of-_there-_a flicker, a faint speeding up. A few steps in the new bearing and he saw it pulse a bit faster; he counted the time between to be sure. Definitely, nine and a half seconds now instead of ten.

"Well, it seems you have a few tricks after all," he said with a grin.

"Lead on, little rock," he said, shifting the bag higher on his shoulder as he set off into the bleak landscape, the road a gray ribbon of concrete running into the desolate distance.

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><p><strong>futrCSI1490: <strong>Yep! A little unplanned, magic-less trip Aboveground for Jareth to add to his frustration and anger, muhahahaha! Sorry you've missed my twist-y-ness. I'm back for now! I hear ya about being busy. Thanks about my original work, I've already sold 10 copies of my short story on Kindle in 6 weeks. Not bad considering it's a little thing and I'm an indie unknown. I'm hoping to get Dreams done by this summer and published. Thanks!

**Angelwells: **Thanks! The action is really just getting going! Enjoy!

**moira hawthorne: **LOL! Exactly! He'll be super pissed when he finally meets her again. (and not drunk) and of course I have more fun coming.

**Joie Cullen: **True, they're tricky and cruel but they didn't lie. LOL, he's not going to find Sarah right away. It'll be more of an accidental meeting. :o)

**Shenlong Girl: **You have no idea how much fun it's not going to be for Sarah and Jareth. There are definitely ramifications of having the troupe stuck Aboveground which are yet to be explored.

**J Luc Picard: **Thanks! It's always fun to figure out new ways to describe inner workings to the magic and motivations of J and S. Jareth's role in tethering is important to his quest as the Triumvirate. He's the only one who can repair the damage by Sarah. Enjoy!

**Autumn O'Shea Swan: **Ditto! Good health to us both! Did I surprise you with this one? :o) Jareth has a big journey ahead of him.

**HachimansKitsune: **Thanks! I've been wanting to write this for awhile now. I agree, questing Jareth and apocalyptic stories were just dying to be writing!

**Niphuria: **Thanks! Glad you enjoyed it so far. This is definitely one I'm really enjoying writing and it has been in my head for awhile now. Yes they hate each other and yes...I promise...it will be J/S. Eventually.

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><p><strong>AN: So I don't think this will be as long as Within Dreams, but then I don't always know this things going into my stories as I write without a net. I could, in theory, stretch this out. But it doesn't feel really, really long to me. However, it won't be super short. There's a story here with plenty to flesh out and explore. The fun is just starting now that we're in the post-apocalyptic Aboveground, and there's lots of things to learn about what happened after Sarah's victory. Sarah will show up in a chapter or two and then things really get interesting. **

**Thanks for reading! Enjoy!**

**Jinx**

**:o)  
><strong>


	6. Chapter 6

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><p><strong>Chapter 6<strong>

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It didn't take him long to walk to the fringes of the town where a two-lane, rural highway stretched out from the early, afternoon sun. The crystal blinked its approval of the bleak eastern option, though the western choice was just as deserted.

_I'm fortunate to have the strange sun at my back for now_, he mused as he began his journey in earnest. It helped lessened the already growing pain transferring from his eyes to his skull, but didn't eliminate it.

Jareth did his best to focus on his steps rather than the hopeless environment surrounding him. Soon, his long legs devoured the road, weaving around a cluster of randomly positioned cars left to rust and rot in the alien atmosphere. They appeared severely aged, and he wondered if the changed light and air corroded them faster. They were many things changed in the Aboveground, many things he feared now beyond him.

Shoulders aching, he shifted the duffel bag several times trying to locate a comfortable spot. Unfortunately, the migraine burrowing behind his eyes due to his extended exposure to the overly piercing sun and sky precluded any real comfort. And, bloody hell, his feet hurt. He was unused to relying on physical exertion for travel. Usually a wrist swirl or a finger snap and voila...

Squinting, he scanned the area. He needed to locate shelter. But after walking most of the day, he only found abandoned vehicles and dusty desolation extending to all horizons. At least that's all the flickering light allowed him to see, much past a quarter mile and things blurred and wavered. He regretted being unable to locate a pair of those sunglasses humans valued for eye protection. A pair would probably do nicely to cut the bizarre glare forcing his eyes to dance and twist around objects, each minute increasing the ice-pick pain.

However, once given to ignoring his discomforts, his greater concern was the realization of the continued lack of humans. Oh there were various small animals scattered throughout the blanched grasslands; he spied them flying, buzzing or slithering away at his disturbance. But all human civilization appeared as dissected husks of technology - useless and forlorn, aging and neglected.

Pausing to examine one particularly large, narrow vehicle, whose color may once been sickly yellow, Jareth peered inside the folding door hanging only by its upper hinge. It squeaked and rained old dust when he pushed it open. The driver, long dead and mummified by the heat, sat slumped over the over-sized steering wheel. More skeleton than body now, Jareth was unable to tell if it had been male or female by its standardized uniform.

_Perhaps this poor soul had sunglasses which he no longer requires._

He cautiously crept on-board, and the entry stairs creaked and shifted under his weight. Holding his breath, he froze when the floor settled several centimeters before it held. _Too close..._

The rampant dust left no inside surface unaffected; layers upon layers of it powdered the industrial designed seating and pointless square windows. Grimacing, Jareth felt a moment of extreme distaste and an involuntary desire to sneeze before refocusing on the driver's hapless remains. The driver's head lay smashed against the black steering wheel, inconveniently facing away.

"Well, my good man, I do hope you favored eye protection because I'm in dire need of it."

Reluctantly, he stretched out one hand - again missing his gloves when his fingers contacted the brittle straw of the dead driver's hair - and bodily shivered at the feeling. Manhandling the dead was considered highly disrespectful (bordering on criminal) by the fae, and this one act would be enough to gain him censure if others were to hear of it.

Having to reconcile his physical need to scavenge with his ingrained revulsion, his entire body pulled taut like a bow away from his single hand's questing. His eyes would've abandoned him as well if they could've figured out a way for him to search blindly. Pushing, shoving, moving over the body's dry, craggy surface, his fingers walked a path while his eyes watched the edges.

"Bloody hell, you didn't wear ... ah ..." Once he gingerly swept the crusty, breaking hair aside to reveal the corpse's leathery, shrunken face, he didn't find any sunglasses. Instead, the now clearer line of sight showed the invaluable glasses lying just out of reach on the floorboard on the opposite side.

"No wonder they're still here. No one else found the buggers." Or no one else dared moving the driver's bulk to claim them. Shoulders slumping and lower lip slipping out in a resentful pout, Jareth stared at the treasure just beyond his expedient reach.

"I really, _really_ detest not having my magic," he said to any and all interested. Several minutes of the wind's constant, insouciant whistling through the partially opened bus windows was his only response. One determined plop of his duffel on the floorboard later, and he zeroed in on his prize. Cultural taboos and physical nuisances were not about to stop the Goblin King from claiming his rightful due.

Bloody hell, he needed those sunglasses...

A short time later, Jareth scrambled down the bus steps, and ended up on all fours, dry heaving on the ground. With his bag tossed to one side, he held the sunglasses in a blanching grip in one hand while he supported his upper weight with the other. For the first time since arriving in this hellish Aboveground, he felt chills and shivered as the heaves gradually receded.

"Good gods, I pray I don't ever need to do the like again," he whispered to the asphalt. Once the worst passed and his composure returned, he stood to his full height and studied the glasses. He found himself happy with the result - a sleek, black design with dark wrap-around lenses. He slipped them on and smirked. Oh yes, very happy indeed as the horrid glare was immediately reduced by half. Not all the pain was eliminated, but he could live with this, already the flaring headache dulled.

"Well done, old boy, well done indeed!" Now to proceed onward - he consulted the stone again and it blinked its usual rhythm leading him east. Resuming his trek, he wondered if he ever might see humans while en route to the new nexus. If so, what manner of changes had they endured in conjunction with their new world?

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As the day was unbearably hot, the night was equally cold, delivering a special brand of agonizing torture. Previously, with his magic, the travails of atmospheric temperature variance troubled him not at all. Should he feel the slightest bit of distress, his body easily adapted (either automatically or by his choice) to the surrounding environment, suiting his optimal needs. Without magic, unfortunately, he was at the whim of nature's extremes.

Shivering and miserable, he huddled in the corner of a ramshackle pile of brick ruins, a thin blanket tight around him. Jareth spend his first night without a fire or hot food (he possessed neither a lighter nor any knowledge of how to start a fire without magic). He'd often read Aboveground fiction regarding a person's "teeth chattering" and thought it nonsense. He knew better now. If one got cold enough, one's teeth most definitely chattered, painfully and uncontrollably, eventually causing the jaw muscles to cramp and spasm. Which hardly mattered, he had no one to talk to and barely anything that required chewing.

Speaking of ... his stomach growled, reminding him of the single (disgusting) granola concoction he consumed hours ago which neither dampened his hunger nor satisfied his taste buds. Another shiver raced through him having nothing to do with the cold. Whatever its flavor (yet undetermined as the label mysteriously read - "harvest medley") he did _not_ look forward to eating another - risk of starvation be damned. It had tasted like rotten tomatoes sweeten with honey.

He spat into the powdery dirt again for good measure, even though his tongue felt dry with early dehydration. The rancid taste lingered like a crown-hungry courtesan the morning after. Maybe he needed to hunt for a toothbrush and paste too. He heard tell of their usefulness, perhaps his luck might hold.

_If this could be called luck so far_.

He shivered more violently as the night's chill settled into his bones.

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"What've we got here?"

"He sure ain't no Empty."

"Nah, looks too shiny and weird."

"And half-assed, I ain't never seen no Empty try to find shelter, let alone suck at it. What kinda stupid is he?"

Strange voices filtered past Jareth's unconsciousness, coaxing him to the surface. He wanted to respond, but for some reason his body refused to obey his commands, even his eyelids felt glued shut.

_Why can't I move? _His heart raced as he panicked inside his disobliging body.

"He's likely dead, let's strip'em and get movin'." Jareth felt his entire body rock from firm jab in his upper torso.

"Fucking hell, Len, he's ice cold!"

A sliding sensation made Jareth's head spin, and he ended up on his side with a thump hard enough to finally jar his eyes open. Bright light bathed his vision. He saw a blurry vision of two pairs of boots, scuffed and tattered, inches from his face. An attempt to speak ended with his realization of his numb lips. His entire body lack feeling.

"Dumb bastard's probably been out all night."

"Look, he's lips are moving!"

"Oh hell, Len, he ain't dead, but near to it."

"Think we could just leave him here?" Jareth heard a frustrated snort, and watched one pair of the boots stomp a short distance away, kicking dust up in the dim light.

"Are you fucking kidding me? If Fixer found out we left a possible survivor..."

"Alright, _alright_ ... so we take him."

"Shit ... shit, shit, SHIT! So much for the rest of our scavenging."

"Right, I'll get the horse."

Jareth saw the boots leave, and then blinked several times to clear his eyes of accumulated dust since he couldn't move his arms or hands for the job. A certain dull sensation started in all his major muscles as he lay on ground warm from the morning sun. A minute or an hour might have passed when Len and Chet finally returned, griping about their lost opportunities and leading into his limited view what look to be the gangly legs of a horse.

Several minutes of excruciating manipulation and lifting of his useless limbs and body by the two men, and Jareth felt them drape him, face down, over the restless, bareback mount. Its jolting prances caused his slowing warming nerves to shriek, and a muted scream strangled in his throat.

"Don't forget his bag, Len."

"Yeah, yeah..."

"Maybe Fixer can figure out what's up with him."

"Assuming he warms up."

"Dibs on his shades if he stays a cube."

"Long as I get everything else that Fixer doesn't claim."

A rocking, shifting motion in one steady direction informed Jareth of the horse's departure, likely being led by the two men. Panic swelled in his throat. Who was Fixer and what would be this person's intentions? If he could only move and escape; if only the numbness weren't peeling back to expose waves of burning pain; if only he had his magic, if only...

_How the bloody hell do I get out of this? _

His gradually warming and awakening body jerked along with the sharp gait of the horse. Every minute the cold retreated, his torture increased. Yet some part of him recognized the reality of his survival through the night possibly being due to his fey nature, magic or not. He may not know a thing of living without magic, but he knew human bodies were infinitely more fragile than feys. A human wouldn't have survived the night the way he spent it.

As the full heat of the day chased away the early morning cold, Jareth gradually felt the numbness in his hands give way to a burning pain. He attempted to move them with blind, uncoordinated twitches which sent sparks of deeper pain up his forearms. A few moves later and the burn settled into a buzz on the edge of his nerves.

"Chet, hey Chet, his hands are moving!"

"Shit, he's warming up too fast, find somethin' to tie him."

A few moments later the horse stopped and a slim binding was tightened around his wrists and ankles. Fortunately the thick leather of his boots protected his legs, but his wrists weren't so lucky. Whatever Len and Chet used to secure him cut deeply into his skin, interrupting circulation. Slumping further into the horse's unpadded contours, Jareth resigned himself to meeting Fixer.

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><p><strong>Angelwells: <strong>Thanks, yes he finally made it Aboveground, but things are looking very good for our GK. He knows exactly bubcas of non-magic survival. As for Sarah and Jareth's reunion, well, remember they hate each other right now.

**Joie Cullen: **Thanks, yeah the Triumvirate did give him the help they promised, though at a high price. And Resident Evil - I love those movies! I love all apocalyptic movies, so this is definitely influenced by them. I've actually been thinking of adapting this to an original fiction version since it has very little direct story to the Labyrinth anyhow.

**Hachimanskitsune: **Awesome! You know how I love creating lots of questions and building on them before I answer them. As for the condition of the world...at this point I'd say it's a bit of both (haven't really decided how far to go with it but it's mostly magic) The nexus is the connection between the worlds and the magic/power travels through the bridge. The real question is: "What is the nexus?" Muhahahaha!

**futrCSI1490: **Thanks, everything's so bright for everyone. The severing of the bridge damaged the ... dimension for a lack of a better word. It's out of phase with itself, everything is wonky and wrong, even science doesn't work like it's supposed to. Jareth's stone is basically a lodestone to the nexus. :o)

**J Luc Picard: **Love apocalyptic road trips! And sarcastic, dark humor! 'Cause you can't go without the humor in the desolation. Thanks!

**moira hawthorne: **Really? Awesome! You know how I love surprising people. Enjoy!

**Autumn O'Shea Swan: **No prob, I'm glad you're doing well and keeping busy. Same for me as I prep for my spring craft shows starting next month. And Jareth is going to need all the luck he can get. In fact he talks about that this chapter, lol!

**xxyangxx2006: **Thanks. We'll be finding out more about Sarah and the changes to the Aboveground soon. And we'll learn what happened to Hoggle and co. I'm glad you approve of the J/S hatefest at first rather than unrequited love, etc. And they really do hate each other right now. And of course Sarah has something to do with the new nexus. I'm sneaky, but some things are just too obvious to be sneaky about. The question is: "What exactly does Sarah have to do with the new nexus?"

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><p><strong>AN: Sorry it took so long to update, but I've been rather absorbed with jewelry making and artwork lately. I've also been trying to work on my original stuck, so lately every time I look at my fan fics I either don't have time to get much writing in or I'm only able to get a few hundred words written. I know there are many who are probably dying for the next chap of "Concern" and I promise I haven't given up on it. I've been tossing a few ideas around for the next chap, and since I've started posting it on deviantart, I can't just let it hang unfinished. And for anyone interested, I've been posting Labyrinth fanart on my deviantart account (link is in my profile). Hope everyone enjoyed this chapter!**

**Jinx**

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	7. Chapter 7

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Chet kept one eye on the stranger slung over their horse, Ole Bay, and the other on the surrounding landscape, alert for danger or unexpected opportunity. He still didn't know what to think of the stranger, his odd looks and his weird behavior not fitting Chet's knowledge of the new world. Knowledge was power, and power meant survival. Therefore the unknown was either dangerous or useless, and both negatively impacted survival. He didn't have time for either.

Fixer did.

Chet tightened his grip on the stock of his shotgun, sweat lubricating his fingers against the well-worn wood. The weapon's weight pulled at his arm, reassuring him. He kept the double barrels loaded, and he'd fire on anyone or anything threatening them - his eyes sidled back over his shoulder - which still might be the stranger's fate once he woke up. Assuming Fixer made an exception, or the stranger became violent before they got back.

Fixer's standing rule: Any survivors (not Empties) were to be brought to the compound - if safe to do so. And what Fixer said was law, not because Fixer was in charge, but because Fixer possessed the uncanny ability to ... well ... fix things others couldn't. Since their entire compound ran on pre-Shove tech, which was otherwise junk without Fixer, what Fixer wanted - Fixer got.

"I still think it's stupid and dangerous," Chet mumbled with another, aggravated glance at the white-haired stranger flopping on Ole Bay's back, along with his pathetically half-empty bag.

"What is?"

"Nothin', Len, just keep your eyes open for danger." Scowling, Chet jutted his chin around the dusty, cracked asphalt leading them back home. The late afternoon sun at their back made it easier to see the road in the wavering air; Chet was grateful. Any measure of comfort in the new world was appreciated.

"I'm keep'em open, geez..." Len kicked a lone rock unfortunate enough to be in his path as he guided Ole Bay. The clattering rock startled the horse, who whinnied and jerked, nearly tearing the reins from Len's grip.

"Sonna-bitch!"

"Keep holda him!" Chet grabbed the reins over Len's hands and braced his weight against the skittish animal. The stranger bounced and shifted precariously, and Chet heard him moan faintly. Suppressing a pang of sympathy, Chet settled Ole Bay with gentle caresses to his muzzle before turning back to the road ahead. He pushed his emotions aside and concentrated on monitoring the surrounding area, never knew when danger might strike.

"Shit, think you can control him now?"

Len glared at him with a stuck out lower lip, and Chet suppressed another urge to smack the younger man. "I got'em."

"Good, then let's get back home before dark." Len nodded once and steered Ole Bay back in the correct direction.

Meanwhile, Chet quickly lost himself to his thoughts again, and his earlier twinge of surprising emotion. It felt weird to have sympathy for the stranger, like he was wearing someone else's skin and it didn't quite fit, all bunches and wrinkles. Sympathy in the No-Where not only got you zilch in return, it often got you hurt or worse.

And speaking of weird ... in the years since the Shove, he'd never seen a Normal survive a night exposed to the freak cold. Empties were usually the only ones ever found alive outside of shelter these days, but then Empties weren't normal anymore, and barely alive to start. Too stupid to care for themselves, they wandered around seeking ... something. No one had been able to figure out what they sought, and no one really cared anymore. Usually they were harmless, but occasionally they became violent if disturbed. So, everybody steered clear, let'em fend for themselves until the new world finished'em off.

Just like it tried to do to this guy, who should be dead, but whoever he was he somehow survived. Even so, he couldn't have been in the No-Where long otherwise his stupid ass would already be dead, or killed by Vultures, or maybe even a bad run-in with an Empty. So many ways for nature to kill a person off these days...

Chet snorted. "Huh, nature, ain't nothin' natural 'bout the world no more," he mumbled.

"What'd ya say?"

"Nothin'." He tossed back over his shoulder without further explanation, then ignored Len's grumbling. A bit longer and he could get rid of the annoying moron. Just because he was the compound leader's son, just because he needed experience, just because their leader - Sam - respected him, he got stuck with the brat kid yesterday for the compound's weekly scavenging. After a day's travel (and a stopover in a protected shelter halfway) all they had to show for it was the stranger, his meager belongings and a bottle of overlooked aspirin found in an abandoned vehicle yesterday.

Hell, Sam would be pissed for sure. Maybe Fixer too.

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The outer gates of the compound fuzzed into Chet's vision through the blurry dusk light. It didn't look like much, being a single small building surrounded by a high cinder block wall topped by concertina wire. He knew, however, several well armed guards observed from cameras panning inside the spiraled, razor-sharp wire. He also knew if they sensed any changes in their behavior or danger, they wouldn't hesitate to deny them entrance, and fire upon them if needed.

"Finally," Len said with a relieved sigh. "My feet are killin' me."

"Boy, you've hardly walked at all. We didn't even make a full trip 'cause of him." Chet arched his thumb over his shoulder. "And Sam's not gonna like it."

"Dad'll understand."

"_Really_?" He gave Len a piercing look. "That all we got is a bottle of expired aspirin and another mouth to feed?" Len's brows furrowed as if thinking took too much work. "I'm sure he'll be real understandin' 'bout it," Chet added.

"Well..."

"Save it, home's callin'." The cinder block wall's only entrance beckoned, and Chet blocked everything else as he approached the main camera angled down from the top of the barricade.

With a straight face, he peered up and said, "Chet and Len with a survivor for Fixer. He's unconscious, so tell Fixer not to waste any time."

"Gotcha," a heavy duty metallic _clank_ within the ironclad door, "entry granted. Welcome home, Chet."

"Thanks." Using his full weight, he pushed the door inwards, its interior hinges shrieking until it stopped at just enough room for Len to lead in Ole Bay. Familiar with the process, the horse trudged behind Len while the dangling white-haired stranger bounced on his back. They entered a narrow courtyard which surrounded the single building, then Chet reversed the process and shut the large door until he heard the lock engage. Once the outer gate was secure, the building's single door slid open and a raggedy dressed, armed guard stepped out, his rifle held in a relaxed grip.

"We've passed on the message."

"Good," Chet said to the guard, who moved aside allowing them entry. Ole Bay easily fit inside and onto the dirt ramp leading past the guardhouse hall before Len stopped him. Chet's eyes twitched at the intense difference from the still bright dusk of outside and the dimness inside.

"Can't wait to get rid of this one," Chet said after the guard shut the door with grinding slam and locked it.

"Why's that?" the guard ask.

"Somethin' weird 'bout this survivor.

"Yeah? What?"

"Found him mostly frozen, but still alive after being out all night."

"No shit?" The guard cautiously walked up behind Ole Bay, hand brushing the horse's flank, until he reached a better view of the survivor. "He feels warm to me," he said with a curious glance at Chet.

"I should think so; he's been baking in the sun all day."

"And he's still out?"

Chet shrugged. "How should I know? We tied him when he started moving a few hours ago. That's why Fixer needs to see him right off."

"Yeah, alright, go on ahead." The guard waved them on with a last, lingering look at the stranger's hair, which was bright even in the murkiness of the half-light.

"Come on, Len," Chet said, nodding his head towards the darker, deeper end of the tunnel.

"Yeah," he replied, tugging Ole Bay who nickered eagerly and shook his mane out, reins jangling.

With a long swaggering stride down the descending tunnel into the compound, Chet grinned, even the horse was happy to be home. Further down the square-ish, reinforced hole into civilization, a yellow light burned, pulling them close as if they were flies. How often had he walked this path? How many years since the Shove, during his own frantic wanderings when Sam found him and guided him to this oasis being built from an old military bomb shelter.

Fixer's handiwork - except for the grunt work, he and others like him handled that.

Fixer...

The long tunnel ended with two more guards nodding at their passage into a larger, honeycombed chamber with a central quad. Being at least fifty feet underground at this point, the chamber had three levels. It always reminded him of an underground prison with its railed balconies and individual rooms. The residential compound lie deeper; this shallowest section was used for communication and commerce.

"I hear we've got a new survivor." And Fixer's business.

Fixer's brown hair was pulled back severely, and the face glaring at Chet looked to be more irritated than usual - all angles and edges. If it wasn't for Fixer's uncanny ability with the old tech (and everything else mysterious) Chet would've steered clear of old sorcerer - not that Fixer was old, just radiated age like an old soul.

"Yeah, found him a full day's walk from here, almost frozen through," Chet said, then signaled Len to release the man's ties to Ole Bay. As Fixer strolled closer from the shadows, dark eyes glittering in the fluorescent lighting, the stranger slide from the horse and landed face up with an 'oaf' and a painful sounding groan. The stranger writhed and thrashed until his hair cleared his face; Fixer gasped and froze mid-step.

Spinning to Chet she said through clenched teeth, "Why did you bring _him_ here?"

"Whadya mean?" He shrugged and back up a few steps from her full body fury burning towards him, sparing a look at the equally stunned Len trying to hid behind Ole Bay. "It's your rule to bring in survivors, right?"

"Not him!" Her arm impaled the air towards the stranger, her finger a knife at the man's heart.

"Not the fucking Goblin King!"

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><p><strong>Angelwells: <strong>Glad you're enjoying it! Hope this one answers a few question while teasing you with more questions. Awesome that it reminds you of, "The Book of Eli", that was a great movie. I love apocalyptic movies, so I'm glad the descriptions are coming through well. More answers will be coming, especially now that Sarah is in the picture.

**Autumn O'Shea Swan: **Oh, no, he's not alone. As for evil doer or not. That remains to be seen. Glad you like his snarkiness. Can't have non-snarky GK.

**moria hawthorne: **yes, I'm glad I was able to clear up some of those issues for you by PM. I know this story is off the beaten path for Laby fic (so is my other "King" for that matter, but this is more so) But I promise, I'll clarify as best I can all those nagging questions about the altered Aboveground as best I can as we continue. Can't answer them all up front 'cause that's no fun, right?

**Joie Cullen: **Awesome! Thanks! Hope this was a nice lead up to Sarah's intro, muahahaha!

**HachimansKitsune: **As we now know - the humans call the alteration 'the Shove' (which I'll explain later) and now we know who Fixer is too. Glad the sunglasses scene was powerful. I tweak it a couple of times to get it just right. Didn't want to over linger, but still get the point across how anti-dead body raiding he was. Hope this chapter was fun too!

**PyraWiccan: **Thanks! I love writing so there are lots of intriguing questions, keeps readers guessing and coming back for more. But I answer the questions, and I try to do so in a satisfying manner. I never write a story in which I don't know the answers to my questions (unlike some TV shows *cough* Lost *cough) Thanks! "One of the most unique story plots" that's one of the best compliments I've ever received! I do strive to write outside of the box. Have I answered one of your questions so far? About Sarah? Muahahahaha!

**Shenlong Girl: **Well, if he didn't have bad luck, he wouldn't have any luck at all, right? LOL!

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><p><strong>AN: Thanks to everyone for all the awesome reviews and alerts! I'm really loving this story, but no worries, haven't forgotten "King". In fact, I'm working on the next chapter and hope to have it out soon. Hope you enjoyed this little snippet from Chet's POV. We'll be getting back to Jareth's POV and Sarah's soon. And yes...life Aboveground (and Sarah) are very different. Chet's POV was the best way to illustrate that, IMO. Besides, poor GK is still unconscious ... mostly. **

**Enjoy!**

**Jinx**

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	8. Chapter 8

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Gradually waking as his body warmed to normal temperature, Jareth's mind remained foggy and his awareness indistinct. He knew his abductors' names, Chet and Len, and he knew they returned home and intended to give him to a person called Fixer. Hours later, however, and the most he'd been able to do was twitch and fuss on the horse's back, gleaning no additional information. Currently he listened with stiff, aching muscles as Chet gain them entry somewhere.

He wanted to move_. Bloody hell_, he wanted to roll off the damned horse so badly for various reasons, starting with relieving his mashed bladder and then on to more important ones, such as beating the two kidnappers to pulp and escaping. But his damaged muscles refused to listen to his brain's partially alert commands. It made him wonder again, if he'd still be alive if not for his fae constitution - he suspected not.

More chatter with another new voice, shrieking metal and dimming of the harsh light before the ground sloped sharply beneath them. The horse's gait became a bit prancier, as if excited, and a bolt of anxiety zapped down Jareth's spine.

_This can't possibly be good. _The light dimmed further through his closed lids. The redness darkened as the previously, ever present glow through the thin skin finally gone. The horse stopped. A familiar voice cut the haze of his injuries and settled in his gut like bad venison stew, except it was slightly different - harsher, crueler, more callous - as if that were possible.

The abrupt loss of the prickly, sloping back underneath his stomach as he slid backwards made his head swim, and the hard landing on what felt like packed dirt didn't do his back any favors either. Moaning, Jareth thrashed awkwardly, trying to clear his tangle hair from his face. Unfortunately, his arms and legs were achy, sore and protested even casual use.

"I can't believe you brought the fucking Goblin King here!"

_ Good Gods! That voice again, it is her! _Gummy eyelids unpeeled, he blinked rapidly at the stranger once so familiar. Sarah Williams.

_Sarah Bloody Williams! _

He growled, inhuman, low in his throat and loud enough to cause the two guards at the tunnel entrance to raise their weapons. Chet gave him a startled look, and Ole Bay shimmied back, nearly trampling a squeaking Len. Sarah, however, stood her ground and sneered; somehow the twisted smile softened her harsh features. He marveled at the massive alteration in her appearance, once so innocent and fresh.

"Don't bother trying to frighten me, Jareth. I'm long passed your trickery."

Hissing, he returned her sneer (which was significantly less intimidating since he was lying flat on his back like an overturned turtle). "MY trickery?" He struggled to push himself upright onto his trembling elbows. "My dealings with you were always honest-"

"_Honest_!" Sarah took one, stomping step closer.

"WITHIN the purview of the rules governing the game since ancient times."

"WHAT?"

"While you..." Jareth rolled to one side in order to better force his body to a sitting position, his snarled hair falling over his eyes as he tried to glare at her. His arms quivered trying to support his weight. "...have done nothing but reign destruction upon my world!"

"Me? What about _your_ vengeance on _my_ world?"

A small muttering crowd gathered around the two. So focused on each other, neither noticed the humans standing loosely around them in a circle.

Jareth struggled to crouch to his knees upon the hard packed dirt. "I've done no vengeance upon your world!"

"Don't lie, Goblin King. I know what you're capable of, and this new world," she flung her wiry arms wide, "bares your hallmark!"

Scoffing, Jareth eased to his feet, carefully gaining his balance. "I did no such thing," he said so softly that several people dared to lean closer to the infamous Fixer. "This new world, as you said, is all your doing, Sarah Williams." Gasps followed his accusation and Sarah's response faltered for a half a heartbeat, her face twisting in pain then disbelief.

"You're lying," she answered just as softly, fists clenching at her sides, teeth grinding.

"You know I'm not."

"You couldn't stand losing to me, so you punished the entire world, didn't you!"

He shook his bowed head, "Still the arrogant, self-centered child," then faced her again, and smirked. "Though not such a child any longer I wager," he said sarcastically.

"I hate you!" She lunged forward, arms upraised. "I FUCKING HATE YOU!" Her fists connected with his flannel covered chest, her full weight landing and causing him to tumble backwards. They landed with a dull smack on the dirt, Jareth straining to keep Sarah's clawed hands from alternating strangling or scratching him.

_Bloody hell, she's strong!_ _Or I'm weak from this misadventure._

"Feeling's mutual!" he yelled into her face inches from his then shoved her to one side, sending her into a crab-crawling sprawl. The stunned and silent crowd leapt backwards, giving them space.

"What the fucking-a hell is going on?" a man's commanding voice cut through the crowd along with his bulk. Jareth jerked around as Sarah jumped to her feet, a sullen (but not regretful) expression on her face.

Finding his voice in the shock of watching the stranger and Fixer wrestle, Chet answered, "Uh, little disagreement on bringin' in a survivor, boss."

"Disagreement?" Sam said, crossing his thigh-sized arms over his chest and staring down the crooked bridge of his nose. One too many breaks had caused it to heal badly, leaving it off center and full of character, just like its owner. "You wanna fill me in, Fixer?"

Sarah brushed off her threadbare, drab fatigues before meeting Sam's querulous gaze with her a rebellious tilt of her head. "He's not welcome here. Kick him out."

Sam raised one brow. "Against your own rule?"

"I _said _he's not welcome!"

"And why's that?" Sam huffed, irritable, but far calmer than any other would be facing Fixer's mutable emotions.

"I don't need to explain my reasons to you."

The crowd muttered and Sam's jaw and arms tightened. "Fixer," he said in a stern, warning tone.

"She called him Goblin King at first, Dad." Sarah shot Len a death glare and he shrank back behind Ole Bay, who was finally settling down again.

"And just who is the Goblin King?"

"He's an evil, vindictive fae!" Sarah said, flinging her arm back toward where Jareth was struggling to stand again. "He's responsible for the Shove!" Her declaration brought forth noisy grumbling from the growing audience; even Sam's eyes pinched.

"That's a big charge, putting the fault of the world's change on one man. You sure 'bout that?"

"You doubtin' me now?" Sarah moved into Sam's personal space, all angles and elbows pushing his triggers. A tense quiet blanketed the area while the two main power brokers of the compound faced off. Fixer and Sam fights weren't unusual; Sam publicly doubting Fixer was.

"I did not cause this damage, what you call the Shove," Jareth said. His softly insistent voice shattering the shaky truce neither Sarah nor Sam seemed quite ready to break. Jareth saw a sort of relieved relaxation pass over Sam's face as he looked over Sarah's shoulder at him.

"And why should I believe you over Fixer?" Sam asked, voice more threatening than his body language.

"Because I journeyed here to repair the damage to both our worlds, the damage caused by her." Jareth nodded towards Sarah; she snarled at him, everyone else gasped.

Uncertain which portion of Jareth's confession held more shock value, Chet exclaimed, "I knew he wasn't from 'round here!"

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"Now explain to me exactly what the hell is going on and how the fuck do you two know each other?" Sam demanded after shutting the door to his private office. His cooler head decided that having a detailed discussion about the Shove and who bared responsibility for it didn't need to done in front of the entire compound's residence - which continued expanding the longer they argued at the main entrance. Escorting both Fixer and this Goblin King up to the third story balcony, Sam barely kept them from attacking each other before relegating them to opposite ends of his having-seen-much-better-days-pre-Shove-couch. Its springs squeaked as they adjusted and readjusted themselves, both twitchy and staring at the peeling, flaky green paint on the concrete wall.

"Well," he sat on the ancient gray metal and green vinyl office chair, leaning it back, "who wants to start?" Silent pouting. "Anybody? I don't care who."

Sarah twisted, arms crossed, scowl firmly in place. "You expect me to believe you're here to help?"

"Of course I don't expect _you_ to believe me." Jareth spun his torso to face her. "_You're _a spoiled brat!"

"And you're an arrogant ass!"

"But not a vengeful one!"

"You admit it!"

"I admit nothing!"

"I knew it! I knew you were the cause of everything! I always said..."

"I am no such thing you stupid bint! You, however, you're most definitely..."

"SHUT UP!" Sam's shout, over their gradually rising voices, echoed in the mini-concrete bunker of an office. His chair squawked and rattled when he forced it back into its normal, upright position too fast. Jareth and Sarah jumped and swiveled in his direction, both flushed and wide-eyed.

"If you both could stop arguing for two minutes and explain instead ... please?" he said in a strained voice, trying to sound nice.

Sarah picked at a stray thread from the couch. "I knew him a long time ago, pre-Shove."

"She faced my Labyrinth."

"I beat your Labyrinth, you mean," Sarah said with a smirk.

"You have no idea what you're talking about, little girl." Jareth ground out through a spasming jaw.

"Okay, what's a Labyrinth?" Sam asked, head ping-ponging between them.

"It's a challenge spoiled humans face to learn important lessons."

"I faced it to win back my brother!"

"Whom you wished away in a fit of spoiled rage, hence the need for you to grow up."

"Grow up? I think you took care of that the next day when you took your revenge."

"I did no such thing!" Jareth said then frowned. "What exactly do you think I did?"

"Don't play dumb! You trapped Hoggle and the rest here, wouldn't allow them to return, and then you destroyed the Aboveground, made them ... made us all..." her voice cracked and she abruptly faced away, covering her face with her hands.

Speechless at the sudden, confirmed knowledge of his disloyal subjects, Jareth waited a moment before responding. "So they _were_ trapped as I suspected." His lips thinned and blanched as thoughts of their suffering coursed through his mind. "And the ... damage, the Shove. It started shortly afterwards?"

"You know it did." Her hands muffled her angry voice.

"Enlighten me. How soon afterwards?"

"A few days..." A sob filtered through her blocking hands, and Jareth fell silent. Sam cleared his throat, suspecting they both had forgotten his presence during the tirade. Only Jareth met his eyes, and both felt the unspoken confusion thickening the atmosphere.

"I don't know who or what caused the Shove," Sam said, "but it's obvious to me that of you both know a helluva a lot more about it than anyone else I've ever met. Especially you, Fixer." Sarah sniffed again and lowered her hands to meet Sam's look. "This is the first I've ever heard you talk about your pre-Shove time, and you know..." Sam scrubbed his face, "you know crazy things about it. But then given your talents, I suppose I shouldn't be surprised. And you." Jareth cocked an eyebrow. "You mean what you said about being here to fix it? The Shove?"

"Yes, I am. If I may?" He indicated a desire to dig through his clothing and Sam nodded. Jareth lifted his shirt, exposing the small pouch neither Len nor Chet found and emptied its contents - the jagged lode rock. Which currently emitted a steady red glow, no blinking or flickering whatsoever, Jareth gasped. "Bloody hell, the nexus is here."

"The what?" Sam asked. Even Sarah ceased crying and examined the curiosity resting in Jareth's hand.

"The nexus, that which I am here to locate and repair, that which can bring both our worlds back to full health," he said, awed. _How oddly fortuitous, _he added to himself. Then his head turned towards Sarah and it all clicked into place.

"You're the nexus," Jareth said, horrified.

_Now what? _

_**.**_

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><p><strong>moira hawthorne<strong>: yes, it's been years, which I'll get into more later. Yes, all his subjects were trapped and as for their fate/condition/whereabouts... I'll get into that as well. :o)

**HachimansKitsune**: Yep, you're right, Fixer is Sarah. Though this wasn't a huge secret, plus I wouldn't have been able to keep it very long anyhow. Hope this chapter helps. :o)

**Autumn O'Shea Swan**: Also correct! He did have a rough wake up call, lol!

**AprilRaeofSunshine**: Lol, thanks! I did hold off on this on for awhile before I decided to write it for that various reason. But I'm glad you thinking 'only I could pull it off' and that I am actually pulling it off. And we had that pronoun chat, lol! But for everyone else - I was very careful not use any pronouns referring to Fixer prior to the few sentences before Fixer's entrance scene. However, most of that chapter has all male characters, so all their pronouns are male. Very distracting, but not a cheat. :o)

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><p><strong>AN: Wow, three chapters of my three wips in one week! OMG! I've been in a huge writing mood, what can I say? I'm also two chapters farther into 'King' and have a fair idea of what to write in "Concern" and plan on starting "Falling's' next chapter soon. Meanwhile I'm busy working on my jewelry and original fiction too. What can I say, I stay busy all the time. *shrugs* Things in this fic are about to really heat up now that J and S are together and bickering. I've been wanting to get to this portion for ages! Finally!**

**Enjoy!**

**Jinx**

**:o)**


	9. Chapter 9

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><p><strong>Chapter 9<strong>

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"I'm the what?" she asked, shimming away from his outstretched hand holding the glowing red stone. Jareth's face was an odd combination of calm revulsion, and she didn't really know what do with that unusual expression. No one had ever looked at her like that before, like he wanted to hug her and strangle her simultaneously.

"How exactly are you supposed to repair this Nexus?" Sam asked, wheeling his squeaking chair closer to the two adversaries.

"I am unsure, but the stone is no longer blinking therefore the Nexus is here." Jareth grinned and Sarah didn't see any joy in it. "And the coincidence seems beyond fiction." He moved the rock closer to her, jabbing into her personal space.

Scrambling back, Sarah shrank herself into the couch's corner. "Don't get that thing anywhere near me!"

"I suspect ... touch the rock, Sarah, and all our woes will be at an end."

"I don't _think_ so!" She shifted farther away. "I'm not touching your stupid rock!"

"Don't be childish. It won't harm you." Jareth waved it around as he shimmed over the cushions toward her.

"You don't know that."

"Nonsense. I'm touching it and it's not hurting me."

"Are you the Nexus?"

Jareth's brows furrowed and his movement paused. "No, of course not..."

"Then how do you know what'll happen to me?"

"I know because ... because ... oh enough, just touch the rock!" He lunged causing Sarah to leap and roll over the shabby arm of the couch. Her booted feet hit the concrete floor with a blunt smack and she crouched defensively. Jareth landed face first into the moldering cushions, arms outreaching for the empty Sarah-shaped space.

"What happens if Fixer touches your rock?" Sam asked, curiosity and concern warring equally in his voice. His chair creaked louder when he pushed it out of Jareth's way.

Jareth sat up with a scowl, rock clenched firmly in his hand. "The magic inherent in this rock should bind with her and heal the Bridge from my world to yours." He met Sam's wide-eyed look. "The damaged Bridge is the cause of your world's alterations, The Shove as you call it."

"Shit, Sam! Don't sound soo damn eager to help him."

"I'm not," he narrowed his eyes at her, "but I'd sure like to hear more 'bout this world healing."

"You can't trust him," she said, crossing her arms.

"Why don't you let me judge for myself?"

She snorted. "Soon you'll be believing everything he tells you. He's fey. They lie."

"_That_ is a lie," Jareth replied in a haughty tone. "We may confuse and twist the truth," he cocked his head slightly and shrugged, "but we never lie outright."

"Hmm ... too bad there's no way to prove that," Sam said.

Jareth heard his sincerity and relaxed; at least this man was giving him a chance. He eyed the bright red rock in his palm. Now if he could only convince Sam to assist him in pinning Sarah so he might bring her and the rock in contact.

"If what I say is true," Jareth said. "Then if this rock touches her I will be proven honest."

"Or you'll harm my best resource."

"Gee, thanks, Sam. Now I'm a resource."

"Just tellin' it like it is. Don't you want this world back to normal?"

"Of course!" she said.

"And with your uncanny talents, I'd say what Goblin King's claimin' just might be true."

"Excuse me?"

"Given the situation, I'd rather you call me Jareth..." he said, but neither Sam nor Sarah paid him any attention.

"Fixer, maybe there's a reason why you can bring old tech back to life with some fiddling. You ever consider that?" Sam's chair creaked again as he leaned back, laying his threaded fingers on his chest. It wasn't often he trapped Fixer in a logic argument.

"Oh no." She waggled her finger at Sam. "Don't you put this on me just because I happen to be good at mechanical stuff."

"It's more than just the mechs; we both know that."

"Pardon, but what are you both speaking of?" Jareth asked as he stood.

Sarah death-glared Sam, but he ignored her. "She's the only one I've ever known after the Shove who can get anything mechanical or tech to work, plus..." He hesitated at Sarah's cough, then mumbled. "She's good with the Empties."

"Don't..." The word cracked as she said it in warning, her body tensing.

Sam flinched, his mouth hanging open on his next phrase before he shut it with a snap. "Sorry, Fixer," he said, sitting up straight.

She held up one hand in mute acceptance while Jareth watched, uncertain what he witnessed. What did Sarah want kept from him? What exactly were Empties? In his fog, he remembered hearing Len and Chet speak of them but he knew nothing more. Finally, his curiosity drove him to ask:

"What are Empties?"

Sarah gasped and jerked bodily. Sam frowned and fidgeted, making his chair squeal randomly. Neither hurried to answer the question, but Sam eventually did while Sarah turned from him and faced a wall.

"After the Shove, many people couldn't handle the change. Gradually something ... happened to them, something permanent."

"Go on."

Sam shrugged. "There's really not much to tell. All sorts of people just stopped being ... normal. Barely ate unless they were starvin', barely slept 'cept when they dropped from exhaustion, just started wandering around like they were searching and not finding."

"As if they were empty..." Jareth said under his breath, brows furrowing and hand tightening around the rock.

"Yeah, exactly."

Jareth snapped back to the present. "And nothing helped them?"

"Nope; nothing I've heard 'bout. Doctors were stumped, but then everybody had lots to worry 'bout with the whole world falling apart." He nodded toward Sarah still deliberating ignoring them. "She's the only one I've ever seen be able to talk to an Empty and get a coherent answer."

"Really?"

"And wasn't much of a response, just a word or two once in awhile."

Sarah spun around, eyes bright, hands fisted at her sides. "Don't you dare say another word, Sam."

He threw his hands up. "I ain't gonna spill."

"People here are well, so not everyone was effected?" Jareth asked Sam, but Sarah answered.

"No." Her voice was clipped at first but grew softer, her expression distant. "Not everyone and not all at once."

"Fixer..." Sam coaxed, trying to console her. "Maybe he really is here to help."

Her eyes misted, filling with unshed tears. She wrapped her arms around her chest and rocked slightly. "You don't know ... you don't understand..."

"Sarah," Jareth stepped closer to her, "I _can_ repair this," she looked up, lower lip trembling, "if you'll cooperate," he extended the rock once again, its glow unwavering.

"How can I ever trust you?" she whispered. "You've caused so much harm."

He moved another step, then another, heard the ubiquitous squeal of Sam's chair behind him. Slowly Jareth was hemming her into a corner, which she didn't seem to notice. Outstretching both arms wide and low, he tried to make himself appear as non-threatening as possible. "It wasn't me. I swear to you."

Her short, harsh laugh reverberated in the small room; it hurt his sensitive ears but he resisted cringing. "Still blaming _me_, are you?"

"Sarah..."

"Don't call me that!" She stumbled back a few steps, her back hitting the wall. "Sarah died a long time ago, Goblin King. _You _killed her!" Her arm struck out at his chest in accusation, hands and fingers shaking.

Jareth leapt forward and grabbed her wrist with his free hand, while swinging his other hand with the rock into her open palm. The few seconds between the resounding slap of his attack and his releasing her before he crashed into the same wall, gave Jareth time enough to register her shock. It quickly melted into fear then disgust as she flung the rock so forcefully it whizzed near Sam's face (who ducked with a startled curse) and shattered against the opposite wall.

"_NO_!"

Jareth never really knew who yelled, him or Sarah, only that one of them did just before the rock, the last source of magic in the Aboveground, was completely obliterated. Its ever-present glow winked out like a candle snuffed at bedtime, and its shards, now black, lie scattered like so many discarded, broken toys on the concrete floor.

Jareth's last bit of hope withered when he saw Sarah standing next to him, unchanged except for her red and blotchy face. Her chest rose and fell faster than he could count. He knew the feeling - unmitigated hate seasoned with raw anger, felt it twisting in his chest. Only he didn't quite have the energy for it at the moment, as much as he wanted to strangle and beat her senseless for destroying their salvation.

Likely, she was still the Nexus.

And he was so very tired.

"You sick fuck," she said through clenched teeth. "You don't give a rat's ass what happens to me. You could've killed me!"

He didn't argue. Instead, he used the wall for support as he sank to his buttocks, resting his limp arms over his bent knees. He couldn't stop staring at the shards ten or so feet away. Who knew it would be so delicate? He should've taken more care.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" she yelled at him.

He thought she might have kicked or punched him a few times but he couldn't be sure. Sarah's voice was so far away now and getting farther, as were all his senses. Did any of it really matter anymore?

"I can't believe you tried to use magic on me!"

A familiar acidic nausea welled up in his gut; the kind he only experienced during periods of extreme stress. He'd failed. So quickly, some Goblin King he made.

"I hate you!"

"Why aren't you dead like everyone else?"

"Why can't you just die?"

"Why, why, why, _why_..."

**.**

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><p><strong>jsjsjsjsjsj<strong>

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><p><strong>.<strong>

"You still alive in there?"

A man's voice filtered past Jareth's subconscious, along with a rough shaking of his upper body.

"Hello? Goblin King?" More shaking. "Fixer's gone; I made sure she'll be away for awhile." Like a machine coming back online, Jareth's mind lit up to this information. After a few more seconds of encouragement, he cracked his eyes open to Sam's grim but supportive face.

"Finally, thought you might've taken the easy way out."

"Pardon?" Jareth croaked then coughed.

"Sounds like you could use a drink." Sam slapped his thighs, stood and walked to a battered metal cabinet. "Alcohol is gold 'round here, but I think this is definitely an occasion." After pouring two neat scotches, Sam walked back and offered him a simple glass tumbler with a chip on one edge. Without standing, Jareth reached up and accepted the finger of amber. He always did enjoy human alcohols, and he certainly needed the stiffening now.

The chair protested again when Sam resumed his seat, appearing a casual king. Jareth absentmindedly wondered how much life the chair had left, anything to keep him mind off the elephant.

A few companionable sips then Sam finally asked, "She's important here. Why'd you hav'ta go and piss her off like that?"

Sighing, Jareth dropped his head back to the wall. It felt rough through the mat of his tangled hair. He suddenly felt very unkempt, dirty and itchy. "It was not my intention to upset her."

"Just to use her."

"You don't understand."

"I'm gettin' that a lot lately." Sam leaned forward, elbows to knees, drink dangling between his legs. "Why don't _you_ enlighten _me_? She sure as hell won't tell me shit. Rarely does."

Jareth sneered. "I'm sure your opinion will be unbiased."

"You'd be surprised how open-minded I can be," he dipped his head, "in the right circumstances."

"I suppose..." Jareth sipped and considered. _Why not? What else have I to lose? _"I suppose I should start at the beginning of our sordid tale; when I met Sarah she was merely a child of fifteen and not the hardened woman Fixer, as you know you..." Sam became intent and very still as Jareth related the story of how he and Sarah destroyed their worlds. "She selfishly wished away her brother and, as King of the Goblins, I came to claim him..."

Jareth sipped again, enjoying the burn over his lips, tongue and down his throat. It pulled him back to his pathetic reality. The one he deserved, ending where his current story led. The one he was slowly dying in without his magic, wasting away a little each day, unless he chose the coward's path of suicide, or this new Aboveground finally destroyed itself.

_A Goblin King never gives up, you ponce. _A long dead voice nettled at him from beyond the Veil.

Jareth snorted to himself. _Tell that to some other Goblin King, Da, one who gives damn, one with power to do something, and leave me to drink and talk without your nagging. _His father's voice didn't return, and Jareth wasn't sure if he was relieved or disappointed as he continued his tale for Sam.

**.**

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><p><strong>kittenbooks: <strong>Thanks! Hope you enjoy this too!

**AprilRaeofSunshine: **I know, I'm an evil writer, but hey at least I keep you fully engaged right? I really try to make each word/sentence count. Things are said a certain way for a reason. I'm very deliberate about plotting what is written, how it's written and where it goes. Neither too grim or not grim enough. I'd say a cross between Walking Dead and The Stand is about right with more Resident Evil III without the extreme zombies.

**Buffy: **LOL, now that's saying something. The best cliffie, huh? Damn! I knew it would get everybody but I didn't think it was that big. I thought it was so obvious really, that I had to say it early on. I mean, duh... If I left that too long it would get silly. But now we know the conundrum he's in. Or at least the conundrum he doesn't know he's in yet.

**HachimansKitsune: **Yeah, see I knew you'd figure it out. That's why I revealed that so early and yeah, again duh. How's he gonna 'fix' Fixer. Hmmm... three guesses and the first two don't count. Problem is he has not clue about that and they hate each other. I mean really, really hate each other.

**J Luc Picard: **Hehe, awesome! I love that you love it! I feel the same way when chapters of world building and set up are finally revealed. It's all kablam! Oh! I was holding myself back with the set up chapters to get to the last chapter. But all that wasn't filler or fluff either. It gives it all meaning and atmosphere. Can't rush that. But now the real story starts, woohoo!

**Autumn O'Shea Swan: **Yep. Exactly. But neither of them realize it. And don't forget the hating. Oh what will Jareth do?

**Angelwells: **I know, isn't it great? But he has no idea about how to 'fix' Fixer. Such a mess.

**Angelus Draco: **Thanks! Oh yeah, Sarah's not going to be happy about Jareth doing anything to her. Much with the hating... But as was said by W.S. "My only love sprung from my only hate!" Muhahahahaha!

**moira hawthorne: **Thanks, glad you enjoyed it, things are going to heat up more. :o)

**Joie Cullen: **Of course! Hence why I revealed it so early... such a duh situation. Muahahaha! But now there's all the hating and the figuring out what to do and the hating.

**Shenlong Girl: **Yep, he's getting with the program, but after this chapter his definitely at a loss. :o(

**Lady Augustin: **Thanks...As for Sarah's age...I won't answer that just yet because that's part of the story I'll be revealing in later chapters. It's important and so is the fate of Hoggle + gang. I will be answering those questions, promise, there just part of the overall story. Teehee... no spoilers!

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><p><strong>AN: I'm so sorry this took me so long to update. I got distracted with my art on DA (link is in my profile) then I've been exchanging original work with another writer and editing. Plus "King" grabbed me like mad and wouldn't let go last month, so I cranked the last chapters of that (which I'm sure y'all are happy about). But this one and "Concern" got neglected. I'm working on another chapter of "Concern" too, promise! I haven't abandoned it. It just takes me longer with it since I have less of a plot for it overall in my head. But I do love writing it, so much fun! I do love "Falling" as well and know we're passed the big reveal, surprised some, not others. This story isn't as sneaky as some of my others, but I do try to keep ya guessing about some things. **

**So now Jareth has no clue what to do. Hmm... what will happen? I wonder...**

**Enjoy!**

**Jinx**

**:o)**


	10. Chapter 10

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><p><strong>Chapter 10<strong>

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Sarah stomped down the spartan passageway leading from Sam's office. Random residents, unwilling to meet her death glare, cleared a path for her ire by squeezing to either side of the cinder block walls. She was used to it, or better to say, they were used to her sharp moods and knew to steer wide of Fixer on a rampage.

Ignoring their silent, false deference, Sarah kept her black thoughts to herself. None would understand even if she tried to explain anyhow. Who here ever heard of the Goblin King besides her? Who understood his responsibility in causing The Shove better than her? Or his culpability in her friends' deaths?

_Hoggle... _

His name pierced her heart, made the old pain fresh again. She hid the spasm in her chest before it caused her steps to falter. Emotions made one weak and weakness killed. Apparently no one noticed, but why would they when they deliberately looked away.

_Never again; I'll never love anyone ever again._

Beyond her control, memories of that horrible time bubbled up like The Bog. Later that night, when Hoggle realized they were trapped, he frantically scrabbled at her vanity mirror reverted back to its normal, mundane state. His over-sized, gnarled fists had banged on the glass as he cursed Jareth for being a back-stabbing rat bastard. Eventually, time silenced Hoggle's curses. But Sir Didymus had defended his king until his very last breath months later, saying "His Majesty must have his reasons", while Ludo's mournful wails grew weaker each day they were unable to return home.

Tears welled in her eyes recalling all the exiled party-goers. How their confusion had quickly switched to betrayal, then pain as they comprehended their plight. Without a way back to the Underground, death would come swiftly to creatures borne of magic. And she, Sarah Williams, witnessed firsthand the excruciating wasting disease which struck them all over a period of weeks for some, months for others. Ironically, explaining to her parents why two dozen plus magical creatures hid out in her bedroom became irrelevant because The Shove started the next morning. Her father and step-mother were the first victims, though she didn't fully understand it at the time.

Coming to the end of one passageway, Sarah pushed through the steel re-enforced door and down the concrete stairs. The walls were painted the same pukey color as the rest of the compound, and a few of the lights flickered as she descended. She made a mental note to check the connections later, along with her never ending list of other maintenance chores.

_Anything to keep my mind off the past. _It rarely worked, however. Once one memory replayed, others followed.

Next, her parents' faces drifted up, twisted and burnt, suffering in eternal pain. Her eyes prickled again with more held-back tears. Alone in the stairwell, she stumbled to a stop midway and collapsed against the wall. The cool, coarse surface snagged her shirt, lightly abrading her back through the threadbare cloth.

_Don't think about them, _please_ not now…_ But it was too late. The flashback hit her full force.

…"_Toby? Toby!" she yells, racing from her bedroom the morning after the victory party. The house jostles violently again, knocking her to her hands and knees. The walls warp and shimmy, flashing to transparency then normal, back and forth; it strains her eyes, makes her dizzy. The house jerks left then right, reminding her why she woke and why she needs to reach her brother. _

"_Toby…" she whispers and pushes to her feet. Her head swims; she fights the lightheadedness. Teeth grit, Sarah stumbles forward, arms outstretched for balance. She has to keep him safe; she just won him back. Her parents won't understand the magic; only she knew who they dealt with. _

"_I won't let him take you. Not again…" The bucking floor doesn't slow her run to her parents' bedroom, leaping and jumping until their door was her last obstacle. Flinging it open, she stops in the doorway at the horror occurring feet away and gasps._

"_Dad? Karen..?" _

_Standing over Toby's crib, partially reaching for their wailing son, her parents cling to each other as they scream. Green flames engulf them, sparking from the air, swirling and licking like a serpent. Gagging and sobbing, Sarah watches the conflagration crisp their nightclothes and melt their skin in seconds as they struggle to stretch for her. _

"_Saaarrrahh…" they cry out in one, pain-filled voice. Amidst thickening, oily smoke, her parents crumple to their knees, shrieking, and fall to ash. The house continues to thrash and the flames dance but she's frozen … until the flames jump to Toby's crib._

"_NO!" Lunging over the gray pile – smaller than one could imagine for two human beings—she brushes past the strange, prickly heat of the flames, feels it burn her arm, and scoops Toby from his fate. He clutches her, his chubby fingers pulling at the collar of her nightgown, his tears wetting the thin cloth as she runs from the bedroom. She's running for safety, panting…_

"Fixer, you okay?" Someone grasped her shoulder and shook her from her day-mare. The sensation of Toby in her arms fades abruptly, though his crying still echoed in her ears, along with her parents' screaming. Sadly, she never did find out what happened to her real mother and after everything she considers Karen her mom. Concrete and cinder blocks came into focus around Kelly, one of the compound's older female residents.

"W-what?"

Kelly frowned and squeezed her shoulder. "Maybe I should get Doc…"

"No," Sarah shook her head clear and pushed off the wall, "I'm fine."

"You don't look it." She dropped her arm from Sarah, her eyes narrowed.

"Really, don't bother." She straightened her fatigues and finger-combed her hair, then smiled. "Besides, I was heading that way anyhow." Kelly didn't look convinced, but didn't argue as Sarah backed away through the lower level's exit.

"Your daily visit?"

"Yeah, of course…"

"Well … just be careful on the way there," Kelly said as Sarah slipped through the heavy door without a backward glance. Heaving a sigh, Kelly shook her head and muttered, "We can't afford to lose you."

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Near the end of his abbreviated tale to Sam, as he was explaining his trip into the Aboveground, Jareth stumbled over his words and cringed. Sharpness cut through his mind, blurring his thoughts until he grunted and dropped the empty tumbler. The thick glass shattered on the floor at the same time Jareth's hands encompassed his temples.

"Ugh!"

Sam jerked upright from his slouched position, almost dropping his own glass. "What's wrong?"

"Light..." Jareth squinted tightly. "G-green … pain…"

"Jareth?" Sam stood, cautiously moving closer.

As quickly as it started the pain abated, taking the nonsensical images with it, and Jareth exhaled in relief. His shoulders drooped, his tense muscles released with a snap, and he allowed his hands to fall away from his face. "Good gods," he whispered.

"What the fuck was that?"

Jareth raised his head to see Sam crouching in front of him, an uncomfortable looking position for the bulky man; it conflicted with his concerned look. "I don't know."

"Looks like you had one helluva a headache."

He nodded. "With a bit more, a vision of sorts."

"Huh, this ever happen before?"

"Not to me, though I've heard tell of some of my kind having visions."

Swirling what was left of his scotch, Sam pursed his lips for a moment. "Make any sense?"

Jareth chuckled sarcastically. "No, but then few things have since I met Sarah."

"Yeah, she's an original, but she's useful."

"Yes, well, I apologize if my opinion differs," Jareth said dryly.

"Look," Sam straightened to his feet, "after what you've just told me, I understand why you feel so bad against Fixer, but," he used his hand still holding his glass to point at him, "let me tell you a few things that might change your mind."

"I doubt you can ever alter my opinion of her. She's wreaked far more damage than you can imagine."

"Don't be so sure. Get comfortable." Sam pointed to the couch. Jareth groaned as he pushed up off the hard floor, cold joints protesting the extended time immobilized. Concrete was not conducive to comfort, though he already knew the couch wasn't much better

"You wanna another?" Sam asked from the open cabinet, bottle in hand.

"Quite definitely."

Sam laughed. "I figured. Good thing a have a spare glass." After he handed Jareth a second scotch, the office chair released its usual squeal when Sam reseated himself. A few bracing sips, then Jareth settled his head on the back of the couch, slouching into the collapsing curve of the back cushions.

"So." Sam started. "By the time I met Fixer, she'd already been on her own 'bout a year, which was 'bout ten years ago."

"Eleven years?" Jareth jolted, head shifted upwards. "It's been so long?"

"Whada mean?"

"The Shove," Jareth sat upright, body earnest and leaning forward, "it happened eleven years ago?"

"Yeah, I just said that."

Jareth sat back, looked at the ceiling and frowned. "Intriguing…"

"What?"

"This may seem difficult for you to comprehend, but the story I relayed to you took less than a week to bring me to your presence, yet it's been so long for you … and Sarah," he added as in afterthought, drinking slowing.

"Whada does it mean?"

Shrugging, Jareth met Sam's intent gaze. "I'm unsure, but I wonder at the accuracy of naming it The Shove."

"Well that's easy. Some scientist on TV talked 'bout how the Earth got "shoved out of alignment". How all its poles and fields or some such were out of whack. That was the best theory I remember from TV, then the electricity stopped working." Sam studied the wall for a minute. "That was … oh, 'bout two months or so after it all started."

"_All_ electricity ceased to function?"

"More like everything stopped working." Sam's voice turned soft and sad, his eyes distant. "Everything started changing overnight, like a wave of destruction spreading from the east coast of America outwards to the whole damn world." Growing silent, Jareth listened as Sam talked about his personal experience of The Shove.

"No one understood how it started or why, and no one could figure how to stop it. I remember watching the sky fracture and the sun burn. The cities failed, civilization died and some people became … _animals_." His voice cracked on the last word and Jareth saw how his jaw muscles bunched and spasmed for a few seconds before he continued. "At least the ones who still had minds; most just drifted away."

"Empties…" Jareth whispered.

"Yeah, them." He sipped his drink then stared down Jareth. "You know, I still can't decide which is worse. Turning animal, scratching to survive like us or becoming an Empty. They're all different kinds of death, one's just sooner than the others."

"You lost loved ones," Jareth said bluntly.

Sam didn't flinch, didn't even blink. "We've all lost loved ones."

"Of course…"

"Which is why I'm so interested in this fix of yours."

"No," Jareth shook his head, "it's too late."

"But you said—"

"The stone is gone!" Jareth snapped. "She destroyed it!"

Sam's mouth hung open. "So that's it?" he asked desperately.

Jareth's harsh laughter echoed in the office; he pinched the bridge of his nose and tucked his head to his chest. "Have you no inkling of what's she done? Your _Fixer_ has extinguished the final trace of magic from your world. The hope I carried here to end this … this _apocalypse_ to our worlds is gone!"

"But … but that can't be." Sam slumped in his chair, arms hanging at his sides.

"Oh it most assuredly is."

**.**

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"Hey, Fixer, you're late today." Doc Holloway opened her door to a fidgeting, bland-faced Sarah.

"Got distracted by the new survivor Chet and Len brought in."

"Yeah, I heard there was some hoopla earlier." Holloway stepped aside, allowing Sarah in her triple-sized office/dorm. Holloway was the only one with such large accommodations because of her status as the compound's medical doctor; therefore she required extra space to treat patients. She also had the only room considered safe to hold Empties before determining what to do with them, back when Fixer used to try to help them.

"Yeah, big crowd, lots of fuss." Sarah avoided Holloway's astute eyes, afraid they'd peel her faster than a hardboiled egg. Her stomach growled at the thought of a fresh egg. Their last chicken died last year and none of the scavengers had been able to find another.

"Is he going to work out?"

"Who?"

"The new guy?"

"Oh, um, I don't think so."

"Really?" Holloway led her to the far back room. "That's too bad. He sounded interesting."

"We don't _need_ interesting. We need stable, practical, useful."

Holloway's eyes sidled over her shoulder and caught Sarah's before she looked away. "If you say so, Fixer."

Coming to a single door with a small square window, Holloway paused to withdraw a set of keys from her pants pocket. As she slid the a key into the lock, she said, "You should know, he's been acting odd today, more active than usual."

"How so?"

"Won't stop pacing and muttering." The lock clicked and Holloway swung the door outwards to reveal a scrawny teen frantically walking in tight circles. His arms and legs trembled inside his ragged, stained clothing. Blond hair stuck up in rough cut patches on his over-size head balanced on a wasted-away neck. Sarah took two hesitant steps into the small padded room, then looked back at Holloway, eyes stormy with barely controlled emotions. Only Holloway saw her like this.

"Let me know when you're done," Holloway said softly, respectfully bowing her head at the distressing scene.

Sarah nodded, lower lip caught between her teeth. Steeling herself, she turned around, as she heard the door shut and lock with a quiet click/snick. Taking a deep breath, she approached within an arm's length of him. He didn't notice her or stop pacing.

"Hey, Tobes. How you feeling today?"

**.**

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><p><strong>Angelwells: <strong>Well, she would want to fix the world, but she doesn't want to die or become a flambe siskabob. She's leery of magic and after this chapter you'll probably understand a bit more why. Jareth just pushed it on her without her agreement. Not cool.

**HachimansKitsune: **Thanks, I rewrote that a couple different ways to get the pacing/feeling just right. I wanted them both to be shocked at the same time for different reason. Sarah's throwing the rock away, scared. Jareth is see it shatter. That's exactly what they'll have to 'do' to fix it. Not so twisty, this fic, but how on earth will figure this out and get there?

**Angelus Draco: **Thanks! LOL, yeah, I tossed that in there at the last bit to give him more depth and I'll probably put it in a few more times for fun. Hope this was fun too!

**AprilRaeofSunshine: **Yep the rock is dust. And all the magic is gone from the Aboveground. As for Sarah, she's the Nexus...not quite magic, not quite not-magic...We'll have to see how they fix this.

**Autumn O'Shea Swan: **No he doesn't, but I devoted a lot of this chapter to Sarah. Lots of good info to see how her mind works.

**Joie Cullen: **LOL, yeah she didn't hold back did she? Good guess! Hope this chapter had lots of good reveals. Thanks!

**moira hawthorne: **Yeah, mostly. I go into a bit more detail this chapter about that and I'll touch on it again later. Sarah's had a rough life.

**J Luc Picard: **Hmmm I wonder what would've happened...Awesome! I'm glad you like that it's unsettled and they're starting from a bad spot. This was my whole idea.

**Shenlong Girl: **LOL, don't you know nothing is ever easy in my fics! I couldn't wait to destroy the rock. :o)

**Lady Augustin: **True, but then he wouldn't be GK and he'd probably like and respect her rather than hating her so much. He really, really doesn't like or care about what happens to her. So if the rock would've killed her and fixed the world, so what in his opinion. Glad you liked and we'll see how GK digs himself out of this hole.

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><p><strong>AN: Glad y'all enjoyed the last chapter and hope this one is just as enjoyable. Lots of good info in this one with my usual cliffy! Muahahahaa! More action will be starting up again now that info has been shared and all the main characters have been introduced to each other. Now they all have to figure out what to do with each other. **

**I've decided to lower the rating on this fic to T because honestly, nothing violent or racy is happening yet anyhow. I figure when I get to those chapters I'll warn everyone and up the chapter rating. Usually my fics have more scattered through, but this just doesn't seem to call for it after all.  
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**Thanks for reading and I always love to hear thoughts/opinions/comments.**

**Jinx**

**:o)**


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N: Strong violence/rape depicted in this chapter - short scene - the scene is in italics.  
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><p><strong>Chapter 11<strong>

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"Toby?"

Usually he responded to his name when _she_ spoke to him. Even as far gone as he had been for so long, he always looked at her or gave her some minimum physical acknowledgement. This complete lack of a reaction, it was … unnerving.

"Hey, Tobes." Sarah stepped closer, until she almost broke into his tight circular path. "Hey, kiddo, it's me, Sarah," she said in a soothing voice, head and body tilted to one side as she tried to peer at his down-turned face. His shaggy hair interrupted her line-of-sight, however, and all she caught was the outline of his clenched jaw as he swept past her. And a whiff of body odor, which was saying something since the whole room reeked of unwashed teenaged boy.

She and Doc did their best to keep him clean; some days were easier than others. A mean enough task when the most you could expect was Toby not fighting. But the older he got the tougher it became. He was stronger, due to his lack of conscious restraint, and more inclined to resist their effects to engage him. He only ate once his hunger overcame his shattered mind, so they left food for him every day and hoped he consumed enough on his own. The lankiness of his body often worried Sarah. Was he getting enough nutrition? Not that any of them were eating particularly healthy anymore.

But she didn't care about anyone else, only Toby. Even her own health was irrelevant as long as Toby survived. Only Toby mattered. She'd beaten the Labyrinth to save him, defeated the Goblin King, then his vengeful wrath.

As if that weren't challenge enough, she'd gone on to face the entire world as a teen mother after their parents' death. She'd dealt with everything The Shove threw at her for months with only a few of her dying Labyrinth friends to help, and then not even them for a long time. She wandered the growing wastelands of America for weeks, discovering her unique talent for reviving mechanical things while caring for a growing Toby.

She learned how to avoid trouble, how to hide and how to scrounge. She also learned how to fight back; she had the scars to prove it. America wasn't the land of milk and honey anymore. It was the land of shattered dreams and wishes, violence and death, and an unarmed female's innocence didn't last long when the Vultures found her and her baby brother huddled in an abandoned warehouse.

They'd barely escaped with their lives that night.

The Vultures hadn't left with theirs, not completely.

That was the first time she'd discovered her other talent, the one she kept hidden from everyone, even Sam. She could do more than just fix things, she could un-fix them. Suck the rational thought right out of a person's brain, turning them into an Empty.

She'd never been more scared in her life; that's what triggered it. The Vultures, three of them, surprised her in the middle of the night. She woke up with one restraining her arms over her head and another ripping her clothes off, his weight holding her down. Somewhere in the darkness, Toby cried. Everything happened so fast…

…"_Sawah!"_

"_Toby!" _

"_Shut up, little girl." The one on top slaps her hard enough to split her lip. Both her face and mouth sting and she can't keep a choking sob from escaping. "That's right," the man writhes his half naked body against hers as he yanks her jeans down to match his, "I like it when they cry."_

"_Yeah," his accomplice at her head agrees, "cryin' makes it more fun"_

"_Please … p-please don't…" Frantic, she tries to kick him off, tries to wiggle her arms free, but they're holding her too tightly, cutting off her circulation. All she manages is to wretch her joints sharply through the singing numbness._

"_Beggin' works too." The man over her grins just before he shoves her legs apart and up. _

"_Don't … d-don't…" Hitching breaths interrupt her sobs. His weight compresses her ribcage, makes breathing difficult. She refuses to think about what's about to happen, focuses on Toby's wailing instead. Her two-year- old brother continues to call her name in the dark, hope bright in his voice. _

"_Don't stop?" he asks. "Is that what you're trying' to say, sweetheart? Don't worry; I won't." The first scream tangles in her throat as the man forces his way into her unprepared, virgin body. A fact he quickly realizes with a deep grunt and a stream of ranting. "Fuck, you're tight, a fuckin' virgin, sonna-a-bitch … so fuckin' good!"_

_ Craning her face as far as possible from his hovering, rutting stench, she screams until they echo in the warehouse, drowning out her brother's cries. He finishes quickly, crowing over her like the Vulture he is. Taking and tearing, leaving only bloody carcasses behind. By the time his friends start their turns, Sarah's conscious mind separates and she no longer understands what she's doing— only that she wants the pain to stop. _

_Their attack unleashes something within her; unlocks a door she didn't know existed. She discovers a glowing thread, pulsing in her mind. She uses the thread's power to suck them dry, places a hand on each of their foreheads, knots the thread to their consciousness and pulls their minds apart…_

…_abandons them as blithering husks on the dingy floor of the warehouse…_

She still has no memory of locating Toby or leaving the warehouse. Sam found them wandering in the No-Where a few days later, both dehydrated and near death.

Toby never acted normal again. Sam made assumptions about Toby. Sarah never explained but the question always haunted her.

_Did I cause it? Did I destroy my brother?_

And now the Goblin King blamed her for The Shove.

Falling to her knees, Sarah allowed Toby to pace around her as she cried softly.

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Jareth inspected the small quarters, holding back a rude groan. Sam had escorted him to the room with the intention of making him feel welcome; that was short-lived when Jareth saw their destination. He, the King of the Goblins, Keeper of the Bridge, and Royal Heir to the High Throne was being offered a broken down looking military cot in a four-by-six concrete cell.

"I know it ain't much," Sam said as he leaned on the wall next the doorway. "But space is a premium 'round here."

"Indeed," Jareth replied drily, hardly keeping his lips from turning downward.

"The public bathroom is down the hall," Jareth's abrupt spin of his head and arch of one brow prompted Sam to add, "I know you're probably used to privacy—"

"You assume correctly."

"But this is the best we got."

"I see…"

"We're lucky to have running water."

"Of course..."

"Look," Sam rubbed one eye and sighed, "if what you say 'bout the rock is true and the situation is hopeless, then I got no reason to fight with Fixer over keeping you here."

"But?"

"But on the off chance that you're wrong, that you can still fix this; I want you nearby and safe. And I don't care what Fixer says 'bout it."

Nodding, Jareth considered Sam's logic. "You seem a reasonable man, but I cannot promise you a resolution." He refrained from telling Sam about his shortened life span. Jareth figured that would sort itself out soon enough.

"That's fair, but what you don't seem to understand is that you're the only bit of hope, besides Fixer, I've ever come across since this God-awful mess happened. And I'm not about to let either of you run the other off until we figure this out."

"You believe a solution remains?" Jareth shifted one shoulder to the opposite wall and crossed his arms, relaxing in sudden thought.

Sam let out a short laugh. "I didn't get to be the man in charge 'round here by preaching doom and gloom. Something brought you here besides that damned rock and something made Fixer the way she is for a reason."

"You believe in Fate, then? An interesting perspective for a practical man."

Sam leaned in as he said clearly, "I don't believe in coincidences. Not big ones … and you," he pointed a finger, "showing up is huge."

"Hmm … I can agree with that. But it still does nothing for our circumstances."

"What'da ya mean?" They stared at one another for several seconds, studying. "Oh shit," Sam said. "You don't know what the hell to do next, do ya?"

"I wouldn't say it_ quite_ like that…"

"Oh really?" Sam pushed off the wall and glared. "Then how would you say it?"

"If what you assume is true, this is merely a detour in my journey." Jareth flourished one hand, frowned at it when he realized no crystal materialized then dropped his arm and continued, "I will form my next plan of attack then—"

"Oh cut the crap, Jareth! I'm ex-military and I've heard or said every line a commander can spew to his troops."

"Well … I…" Jareth blinked rapidly, unused to be addressed by anyone in this manner. Even Sarah's disrespect had never struck him so bluntly. Actually, now that he thought about it, her disrespect tended towards coy, at least it used to before she became so hardened. Sam's was positively gruff.

_It's how a real man talks to another man, _his father's voice chimed in, _no matter who he is or where he's from. This Sam is a true leader, Jareth. Don't twist words with him._

Reluctantly, Jareth comprehended the truth of his father's advice. Sam would always see through him. The politics of the Underground would not serve him well with this human man. Visibly cratering, Jareth's chin sank. "You're correct. I have no idea of what to do."

"Well that's just fucking wonderful!" Sam stomped partially down the narrow hallway and back. "That was your big plan? Stumble in here and attack Fixer?"

"If I could've finished my tale, you'd know I HAD NO PLAN!" Jareth lunged forward, one arm threatening.

"WHAT?"

"I did not choose this! I am as much of a victim of this Shove as you!" Jareth pointed a returning finger at Sam, his entire body quivering with fresh anger. How dare this human bark at him!

Sam's lips blanched as he pinched them, then he deflated suddenly, shoulders slumping. "Then we really are up shit creek."

Jareth relaxed his stance and said in a softer voice, almost comforting, "Perhaps not, Sam." The other man's eyes jerked up, questioning. "You've brought possibilities to my mind I hadn't considered. Perhaps there really is no such thing as coincidence, not in a matter of such importance."

"What're you thinking?" Sam asked, moving closer, his face alight with extreme interest.

"I'm not entirely certain yet. However, if Sarah truly is the Nexus, then whatever needs be done must concern her as well as myself."

"Oh boy, she is _not _going to like this."

"On this point at least, we concur."

**.**

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><p><strong>HachimansKitsune:<strong> Yeah, poor Sarah's had it rough, and Toby too. And this chapter's no better for Sarah. Lots of bad memories pouring in for her. This is sort of like Labyrinth meets The Stands meets Resident Evil. I should list it under crossovers, lol! Hope this chapter was just as fun.**  
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**Angelus Draco: **Jareth is gradually figuring out what he needs to do. It would take him too long but convincing Sarah will take awhile. Thanks, I'm glad I'm keeping it interesting for you. He'll meet Toby at some point and that'll be interesting.

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><p><strong>AN: Really? Two reviews for last chapter? I know you lurkers are out there cause the stats are out the roof on this fic. I love writing and will do so no matter what, but it's disheartening to know people are reading yet not dropping in to at least say hi. *sniffle* I promise the smut and UST is coming. It will be J/S but this particular story centers around how to fix the world more than the smut. I know that's not a popular in fanfic, but there will be UST as their relationship develops. Remember they hate either - think Pride and Prejudice meets Labyrinth - and they've got to find their way through that to true love with the backdrop of their destroyed world and guilt. **

**So drop a dime in the contribution box below, love it, hate it, don't know what to think? Let me know, would love to hear from ya!**

**Either way, hope you enjoyed this chapter!  
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**Jinx  
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**:o)  
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	12. Chapter 12

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><p><strong>Chapter 12<strong>

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Holloway became worried when Fixer's time in with her brother went over her usual hour visit, and decided to check in on the two, see how they were doing. Cracking open the door, she peeked her head in and saw Fixer curled on the floor in the fetal position while Toby paced around her, muttering.

"Fixer?" she called, the too-thin younger woman didn't stir. Holloway crept inside, shutting the door behind her, and approached the siblings cautiously. Toby was unpredictable at best, often lashing out when surprised. She gently edged past his path but he tripped over her foot, releasing a howl of frustration. Toby's fists struck Holloway faster than she could defend herself and she shouted.

Sarah jerked awake and leapt up to grab his wrists. "Toby, Toby stop!" Straining, he moan out his anger and tried yanking his arms free. "No, Toby, stop it!"

Holloway scrambled back to the door, pinching her bloody nose. "Fixer, watch out!" Toby changed his stance and head-butted his sister before she could shift out of the way. The bone-on-bone crack sounded loudly in the small room, nearly drowning out Toby's growl. Stunned, Sarah stumbled from him a few steps, holding her head. Holloway watched Toby crouch and rear back for another attack, teeth bared, hands clawed.

"Shit!" Sarah yelped when Holloway grabbed her collar and dragged her backwards to the door the same time Toby lunged. He missed her by inches, banging into the padded wall while Holloway shoved Sarah outside and followed, slamming the door shut and locking it.

Huffing, Holloway slumped face-first into the door, rolling her head towards Sarah. "What the hell was that all about? He's never been violent before."

"I … I don't know," Sarah said through trembling, blanched lips as she leaned her back against the wall next to Holloway. "When did he start acting differently?"

Holloway sniffed and wiped her nose, the blood flow easing. "A few hours ago. I started to come find you; that's when I heard you and Sam were in with the new guy, so I came back."

"Jareth," Sarah whispered, running a hand through her long hair, once glossy now dull.

Holloway pushed off the wall. "That's his name? Jareth?"

Sarah sighed, resigned, her shoulders drooping momentarily as she stood. "Yeah."

"Hey," Holloway lightly touched her arm, "you okay?"

Sarah's arm jerked and her eyes focused on the doctor. "Fine," she said, then pushed past Holloway for the exit. "Watch him. I've got to do something."

"Sure," Holloway said as an afterthought as Fixer raced from her quarters as if the Devil himself chased her. Shaking her head, she scrounged her cabinets for a spare towel to clean her face of dried blood, then mumbled into the thin cloth, "No problem, Fixer."

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Jareth frowned. After their oddly enlightening conversation, Sam had led him several levels down into the bowels of the complex to what he called, "the commissary". Simple instructions followed, such as: grab this, hold that, stand in this line, point to what you want and keep moving, then Sam departed leaving Jareth to fend for himself. That had been some time ago and Jareth had yet to commence with any of Sam's directions.

Meanwhile, a line of raggedy people trickled around him. A few gave him the evil eye, but most merely accommodated him with shrugs and mutters. He supposed his upturned nostrils and arched brows at their stale reek and dusty, soiled appearance earned him little regard. _So be it. I have little choice in being here, but I need not pretend to enjoy the experience. _

"Hey, you gonna eat any time soon or just hog the line?"

Sneering, Jareth turned to the voice behind him. "Pardon?" _Hmm…_ The one he recognized as Chet scowled mightily, lining his heavily tanned face with deep grooves and removing any hint of friendliness.

"I _said_," Chet leaned around Jareth, thrusting his arm at the limited selection of food arranged cafeteria style, "you gonna move. Or. Eat?" Bystanders ceased shuffling down the line and all attention focused on them.

Chet's demand raised his hackles. He might be required to accept Sam's bluntness, but not this person's_. _Jareth did see, however reluctantly, his blocking of traffic's natural flow was of little benefit; and the gruel-like food hardly appeared appetizing— being warmed and served in their small metal containers, no reason to tempt him. So why did his stomach rubble so insistently at the foreign aromas? _Perhaps because my last meal consisted of that horrid bar of dried nuts and twigs…_

"Look, Goblin King," Chet said, stepping around him. Jareth narrowed his eyes and growled, unwilling to give his place in line on principle (certainly not because he desired to consume anything these humans cooked). "Oh, now you wanna eat? Huh?" Chet made a sweeping motion with one arm as he half-bowed. "Well, please, continue!" A smattering of applause followed Chet's pronouncement, galling Jareth further.

"You are disrespectful," Jareth paced closer, nose-to-nose to the shorter man glaring up at a sharp angle, "and infernally rude."

"I'm _what_?" Chet thrust his chest into Jareth's personal space. "I saved your stupid hide!"

"By abducting me?" Jareth's arms bend up with elbows out, hands resting on his hips.

"_He did bring you to Sarah, inadvertent or not," _his father whispered in his mind, which he deliberately ignored.

"You would'a froze out there!" Chet poked a finger at his chest, barely grazing Jareth's tunic.

Eyes blazing, Jareth stepped back and swept an arm around. "And this existence is better? I would have preferred freezing." He felt their audience charge with ire, all directed at him. They might accept their diminished circumstances, but they didn't like having their faces shoved in it any more than he did.

"You ungrateful bastard!" Chet lunged. Jareth smoothly sidestepped his clawed fingers, leveraging Chet's slim body weight away with a two-handed push. Chet stumbled, cussing and twisting about. "Why you—."

A harsh blaring throughout the complex stopped Chet's advance, his head jerking up as his fighting stance relaxed. Jareth's hands flew to his ears, protecting them from the piercing shriek burrowing into his brain. "What is that?" he shouted.

"Shit," Chet said; Jareth hardly heard him over the noise. People scrambled, shoving and pushing from the commissary while the cooks hurried to save and store the food. "Defense alarm," Chet replied, yanking Jareth behind him as he raced with the rest of the crowd. Forgetting his pride in the confusion of pain and shouts, Jareth willingly followed him.

"Defense against what?"

"Vultures." Chet rolled his eyes at Jareth's blank stare of ignorance as they ran side-by-side through the wide halls. "Pirates, thieves, all 'round evil-doers. Don't you know nothing 'bout the No-Where?"

"I'm afraid this is my first excursion to your lovely vacation spot," Jareth replied. "Where are we going?"

Chet smirked. "My fave place, the armory."

"Weapons, then? We prepare for battle?"

"Oh hell, don't tell me you never used a weapon before?" Chet asked, then with a sour twist to his face, added, "You ain't one of those pacifist kinda kings are ya?"  
>Jareth puffed up and arched a brow. "Indeed not! I am well-versed in all manner of weaponry and battle."<p>

"Good," Chet nodded and clapped him on his upper back mid-jog, "good, you're gonna need it."

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The shrill alarm startled Sarah, causing her to slip on the stairs. One hand on the metal railing, the other flat to the concrete step, she caught herself from falling. The defense alarm hadn't sounded in nearly two years. They'd successfully warded off Vulture attacks for so long she'd nearly forgotten what the ear-splitting alarm sounded like, and being in the stairwell did her eardrums no favors.

"Fuck, what now?" She ran up the last flight and rushed out the heavy door into the main entrance, reducing the alarm's volume but throwing in her the barely controlled chaos of the residents running, shouting and generally preparing for battle. _Damn it, so much for finding Jareth and grilling him on the perfect coincidence of his arrival and Toby's violent behavior. But I'll deal with you later, Goblin King. _

For now, defense took priority and that meant tag-teaming up with Sam at the armory. It's were all the main leaders of the complex gathered during emergencies. All other residents knew their assigned defense positions and either carried their weapons or stashed them in protected areas.

Once at the armory, she could get a look at the external cameras, see what they were facing before she and Sam could choose one of their preplanned defenses. As long as they kept the Vultures outside the guard shack, they could hold out for months, possibly. Sam had made sure they stockpiled as much non-perishable food and water as they could locate over the last several years. In case of emergencies, he kept the four hundred or so residents on a strict daily ration, so they could hold out. But others wanted what they possessed, and would forcibly take it.

Skidding around the last corner, Sarah dashed into the armory already bursting with the usual people. Her stomach dropped and her hands fisted.

"What is _he _doing here?" The crowd swung towards her cold question, including Jareth's strangely impassive face.

"Not now, Fixer," Sam said. "We need every willing hand." Snorting, she stomped past an unsettlingly quiet Jareth, who went back to speaking with the scavenger, Chet, while Sam's son, Len, hovered near them like an over-eager puppy. They were inspecting the weapons rack and Sarah refused to picture the Goblin King armed with an M-16.

"I hardly think one more will make such a difference …" she trailed off when Sam pointed to the screens monitoring the outside perimeter. He didn't need to give details; the horde scaling the barbed wire wall, a few already working on the main door, was explanation enough. She gulped down the bile suddenly burning the back of her throat; it stuck partway. "Fuck me," she whispered.

"Yeah." Sam nodded slowly, meeting her eyes. "That's exactly what I'm afraid of." That one phrase and his anxious look ripped up her old scars again, twice in one day. Only Sam knew what she'd endured, saw her as anything but stainless steel.

Instantly, her inner wounded teenager surfaced. "B-but they can't get in here … can they?"

Heavy sigh and slumped shoulders from Sam. "Nothing's impervious, you know that." He gave her a half smile. "We had a good run. Better than I expected."

"_A good run_?" Pain filled each word just as tears tingled her eyes.

He reached out, whispering, "Sarah …"

"Don't!" She pulled away, face and voice hardening. "Don't say that. Don't give up now, Sam. Not after everything we've gained!"

He shook his head. "Gained? What've we gained?" He pointed to Jareth, who keenly observed their interaction, along with everyone else in the room. "He's been our first bit of hope, _ever_, and you won't even talk to him!"

"That's not fair," she said, strained. "You don't—."

"Isn't it? You think we could just hide out here forever? Think the Vultures would just forget about us? About you?" Sam punched a storage room door, the partial board crumpled beneath his broad fist. "It was always a matter of time before they tried again, with a greater force." He shrugged, then said in a resigned voice. "It's what I would do, if I were them."

"So that's it? You're giving up?"

Sam's harsh laughter stopped everyone's breath, gasps then silence. "Hell no. I say we take'em out with us." Cheers echoed in the armory, except for Sarah and Jareth who exchanged a tentative look filled with temporary truces and uncomfortable questions.

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><p><strong>J Luc Picard<strong>: Sam is very smart. Maybe too smart. If I were him, I'd keep Jareth close until I figured out what was going on. Yeah, the rape/violence scene was one of those times when I knew many might not want to read it and I don't generally prefer to use it in my stories as a plot device. But it happens and I like to warn people (when they know they're not reading one of my dark fics) **  
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**Buffy**: Lol, oh well, thanks for checking in this chapter! Usually it's no big, but this story is getting so many hits and yet zip for reviews, it's a bit discouraging some days.

**Stillfeelsixteen**: Yeah, Sarah and Toby are fairly well messed up. But in that world, it was most likely a teen girl, watching out for her kid brother by herself would be attacked. Jareth does have lots of work to do and I decided to add his dad in last minute cause he needs a friend right now. Thanks!

**Angelwells**: Thanks! Sorry it took me a bit this time.

**Angelus Draco**: Awesome thanks! Bascially, Sarah fried her rapists' brains and Toby got some of the overwash of it by accident. So she's afraid to get close to anyone or be attacked and accidentally hard innocents again. Oh they'll talk, but it'll be a bit more time before they really break down the barriers. And to give you a teaser. He hates her, but mostly on principle. He doesn't really know her and visa versa. Once they get to know each other, things start changing. And he will be livid - promise. :o)

**Hachimanskitsune**: LOL, yeah it's a plot device, but only it the best way possible. Other than my fluff, this is my least twisty fic. It is nice to write a fic where the action and characters are fun and interesting and strong enough that the smut is frosting only. Toby comes into play more next chapter, muahahaha and whether or not she made things worse ... good question. I guess we'll have to find out.

**Joie Cullen**: LOL, oops, yeah. It's okay. I try to be good too but I can't say I'm 100%. Honestly, this is the first time in a long long time I've said anything on any of my fics. I think part of the reason is this fic is so unusual from the typical fanfics. Thanks for reviewing this time! Makes my heart feel so good! Her and Toby have been through a lot and it ain't over yet.

**Little Margarita**: Exactly!

**telikogirl**: Aww... I'm sorry I made you feel bad. I really didn't want that, just wanted a little love myself. :o) It's frustrating to see great stats on a fic but small reviews. Makes a writer wonder if the readers ain't liking it. So thanks so much for taking the time to review last chapter. It really does make us fanfic writers feel mega awesome! We write because we love it, but reviews are the frosting of love.

**bananaorama**: Aha! I knew it! *snigger* Glad you're enjoying my bleak sequel (which will have a happy ending, promise!) Took your suggestion and moved it back to M. I had it there, then things weren't really M, then my muse was all ... hmm you should write this back story ... so I added the warning when I probably should've just moved it back to M. I usually just write most of my fics as M because I never really know what my muse will throw at me. I do know the story's start, middle and end, it's all the details I figure out on the way. I did mean for it to be disturbing. Rape should never be glamorized. It's violent and cruel and wrong. It damages victims more than just physically and some never fully recover. However, it's just one of the great devices of torture to use for character growth in fiction and I'm not above using everything if it's suited to the story. But I always aim realistic and respectful. (I've witness the end result of most types of injures firsthand. I know how awful they can be.)

**randomperson**: Aha, another lurker! Thanks for leaving a kind word and glad you're enjoying my crazy, Laby crossover!

**DavidBowie'spants**: LOL, well Sarah in the movie was a brat. Thanks! Glad you're loving it! And GK was meant to be awesome, so of course you'd feel that way. You should remember that Sarah thinks Jareth killed her parents and destroyed her world. Even though she's wrong, she's had 11 years to stew on this unchallenged belief. I'd say it's a big reason to hate someone. And she's very damaged emotionally by her experiences and has HUGE trust issues and believes (rightly so) that she damaged her brother. That's a lot of crap for a young girl to deal with, so she's blaming most of it on GK through false information and self-protection. If she accepted all that guilt at once, she'd probably suicide. Just something to keep in mind as Sarah evolves and understand GK's position.

**Autumn O'Shea Swan**: Hey back! Awesome, glad you liked. Even Sarah's flashbacks, bad as they are, are important. Plus know you understand why she's so messed up.

**Lady Augustin**: Thanks, sorry it took so long!

**mynagoldenwings**: Hey, long time no hear. Hope your writing is going well. Thanks! Glad you're enjoying this definitely difference Laby fic.

**I play wid fir3**: Oh, yea there will be updates until I finish. I try to add at least 1-2 chapters a month, but sometimes RL and my original fics stall me. But I ALWAYS finish all my fanfics. Plus I'm writing this one with the intention of converting it to an original fic once I'm done. So I'm def. going to finish it. LOL, yeah, I know I'm one of the few that's written a post apocalyptic Laby fic (there's a very few here) and as far as I know mine is the only one going in this direction.

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><p><strong>AN: So it took my longer than I'd hoped to update and I'm still working on "Concern". Argh. I go through phases when I'm working on one thing or the other. The last few weeks I've been massively into my original fic "Dreams of the Queen" and I'm in the home stretch of finishing the last chapters. Since it's such a complex, multi-character fic, it takes a lot of my attention span when I'm into it. Plus, I'd reached a point in "Falling" where I knew the overall story direction but I was stumped at the last chapter. When I get like that, I tend to let a fic marinate for a bit until my muse gifts me with new inspiration. It always happens, usually a few weeks. It started last night and voila! I was able to finish this chapter and I have a very clear direction for the rest of the fic now. Yeah! Shit will happen (it will be a happy ending, I promise and J/S) but the ride will be rough as I love torture my characters. This will probably not be one of my longest fics but I can see around twenty chapters or so. I know more as I write, lol!**

**Thank you everybody for making a sad writer feel so much better. I really didn't mean to make anyone feel bad, but I gotta say, when the stats are high but the reviews are low it make a writer think people start reading and aren't liking it. None of us expect tons of reviews, and even though we write for the love of writing, reviews are the affirmation that help us know if we're on the right writing path or not. And since I'm planning on converting this fic to an original when I'm done, I feel a very personal connection with knowing whether or not the storyline is going to be marketable later on. Basically, y'all are doing be me a favor by beta test reading my idea, so when I get 0 responses I have little mini-heart attacks. This is the first fanfic I've decided to try this out on (since it's so vaguely Laby) it'll be interesting to see how successfully I can alter it and pull the whole idea off.  
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**Whew...so anyhow...thank you thank you for reading and super duper thank you for those taking a moment to review! I love you!  
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**Happy Reading!  
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**Jinx  
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	13. Chapter 13

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><p><strong>Chapter 13<strong>

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"You're certain you don't have a broadsword or perhaps even a saber?" Jareth eyed the black weapon Chet had handed him; it felt cold and dead in his hands, unlike a fey-forged blade. He missed the hum of living quicksilver vibrating in his grip, its magic-infused metal singing out for battle and blood.

Thinking of quicksilver reminded him of his siblings, bloodthirsty Jenea especially. She would understand his reluctance to handle such an unpleasant object since the glory of battle existed within a bond with one's weapon. Alare, however, would prefer not to handle any weapon due to his pacifist nature, unusual in a fey and not well-respected. Alare was fortunate he was a second born son, thereby protected by Jareth's position and rare compassion.

His heart panged with homesickness. _My sister, my brother,_ _I wonder how you fare in my absence? _Only a few days Aboveground and he missed them terribly. Guilt welled up in a bitter, acid wave when he realized he'd hardly thought of Jenea or Alare until now; he'd been too busy dealing with … everything. He hoped they dealt with Underground politics well, hoped time continued to move slower in comparison to the Aboveground or else he might return to find his siblings ousted by greedy neighbors.

"You got something against M-16's?" Chet asked, yanking the rifle out of Jareth's loose grip and rattling it in his face, pulling him back to his current circumstances. "This is a prime piece of kickassery!"

"Fuck ya!" Len said, hovering behind the older man. "Kickassery!"

Chet rolled his eyes, his grip white-knuckling. "Len …"

"If you say so," Jareth replied.

"What don't you like?" Chet rotated the well-used, well-cared for weapon in his grasp, looking for defects. "Looks fine to me."

Jareth sniffed and crossed his arms. "It's … dead."

"Dead?"

"Yes, the materials used to forge this weapon are inert," Jareth made a disparaging shooing motion, "I feel nothing, no connection to this … thing."

Chet stared for a second, then laughed. "You've never fired one, have you?"

"Never fired one?" Len echoed. "Oh man, that's crazy!" Both Jareth and Chet ignored Len's toe-bouncing enthusiasm.

"I don't see what difference that makes."

With a wide grin, Chet thrust it back into Jareth's reluctant hands, refusing Jareth's attempt to shove it back, resulting in a reverse tug-of-war. "Look, Goblin King …"

"My name. Is. Jareth." He ground out mid-return-push.

"Whatever." Chet shoved the M-16 into Jareth's chest hard enough to make them both grunt. "You _really_ need to fire it 'fore you talk 'bout no connections and crap."

Len nodded eagerly. "Oh yeah, fire it! It's fucking awesome!"

"But …"

"Nope, yours now." Chet raised his hands from the weapon, forcing Jareth to clutch it with an awkward scramble rather than drop it. He doubted Sam would appreciate a damaged weapon, no matter how dead it felt to him. "And Len's excitement aside," Chet angled a thumb at the screens which Sam had been watching intently since before they arrived. "We ain't got any more time to argue. The barbarians are at the gates."

"The Vultures …" Jareth said softly.

"_Just learn the accursed weapon, boy, and defend the Nexus," _his father said. _"It won't feel pleasant, but the dead iron won't harm you." _

"Very well," Jareth turned the M-16 over in his hands, examining its dull nooks and crevices, "instruct me on its usage."

"Great!" Chet turned, picked up another item from the shelves and handed it to him. "In that case, I'll let you have this."

Jareth's heart sped up and he eagerly accepted the wicked blade, the M-16's carry strap slipping over one shoulder. His fingers wrapped around the smooth metal handle as he eased the knife from its sweat-patinaed leather sheath and weaved it skillfully through the air. While it didn't have the impression of a fey-forged blade, he did feel something _alive _within the mortal steel as if the old blade had drank blood before and keenly thirsted for more. He grinned, sensing his bloodlust rise and saw Chet smirk. Jenea would be proud; Alare would shiver.

"This is a well-forged knife," Jareth said.

"Yep, it's a Bowie knife. They were a common enough thing before The Shove, but harder to find now, especially a top-notch one. I thought a man like you would appreciate it." Chet quietly watched Jareth admire the best knife in their inventory. Sam had been saving that one for some reason or another, never would say why, but Chet decided it needed to go to Jareth once he asked for a saber because a well-made Bowie knife in the hands of a trained saberist made an extremely deadly weapon.

"Alright," Chet clapped his hands, "time for a quick, down and dirty field lesson on M-16 usage."

Reluctantly, Jareth secured the Bowie knife in its sheath and ran his belt through the loop. Settling the heavy blade on his left hip, it felt like a long lost friend come home again. A short time later, during Chet's lesson on modern Aboveground weaponry, Hurricane Sarah arrived and commenced arguing with Sam. Everyone in the room pretended to continue their activities while they observed the leaders fight, none more than Jareth.

Knowing Sarah was the Nexus was well and good, but discussing it privately with Sam caused him to realize his obvious connection to her. After all, he was the Keeper of the Bridge; of course he would be bound to the Nexus, but in what manner? He needed to study and analyze Sarah in hopes to understand how to … well activate her Nexus powers. He must be open to her.

_And I can't very well allow her to be killed beforehand, or myself. _

Therefore, her first words to Sam, so poignant and sad, touched the part of his soul he held in reserve. Few but his family and intimate friends knew of his capacity for tenderness, as king it was necessary to hide it. Now that he deliberately observed, Jareth heard the shattering of her humanity, felt her radiating vulnerability. In that instant, years dropped from her hardened face and the young teen who begged for her brother's return replaced Fixer. Unable to stop his compassion, Jareth ignored Chet's rambling about the wonders of M-16s and concentrated on her.

Exquisitely exposed by her few phrases to Sam, Jareth compared her fractured beauty to a damaged quicksilver blade. A fey-forged blade must be heated and folded a thousand times before its quenching in magic. If an error is made at any time during the forging process, a flaw in the blade is introduced. The great beauty and strength of a fey blade may hide the flaw for many years, only to cause a fatal ending for the wielder when it unexpectedly failed.

_She is such a blade—beautiful, powerful, and deadly but fatally flawed. _Jareth rubbed his thumb across his first finger, worrying the skin as he thought. _The question is: Exactly what happened to create her flaw? And can it be healed? _

When she met his speculative gaze, he was surprised to find a strange sort of reception. Not a welcoming sort of look, but neither hateful rejection either. Perhaps something of Sam's speech had filtered past her stubborn defenses. Could she ever see him as anything other than the hated Goblin King who destroyed her world?

"_Only time will tell, my son."_

_I know, Da. _Jareth pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes. _I know, but we have little of it._

Thunderous explosions rocked the complex, knocking everyone off balance. Jareth pulled himself up, one-handed, by the weapons rack and shook his head clear.

"They're through the entrance!" someone yelled and Jareth felt a hand grab his collar.

"We've got to join the others downstairs!" Sam shouted at him. At least it looked as though Sam shouted, his face was flushed and his teeth bared as he bellowed inches from Jareth's face. But Sam's words were muted as he if spoke through water.

"What?"

Sam yanked on his shirt, pulling it askew around his shoulders and clearly said into his ear, "Follow me!"

Tamping down his inner king, Jareth clutched his newly acquired M-16 in his right hand and stumbled after him with the rest of the armory's occupants. They rushed to the main entrance to help fortify the rest of the defenders already in place. Every resident old enough to manage a weapon formed a multi-layered defensive line at the end of the entrance tunnel, the perfect bottleneck.

As they ran downstairs in a spiral, Jareth caught glimpses of the battle already underway, the dim lighting doing little to shroud the horror of human violence. Racing with the pack, he tried to locate Sarah but the crowd was too thick and his own sensitive eyes and ears were overwhelmed with muzzle flashes, shouts, cries and the general din of battle. He knew this cacophony, was intimately familiar with its more medieval fey cousin who preferred swords, horseback and magic. The sound and light effects differed slightly but the end result did not.

"Sarah! Sarah!" The clamor ate his voice as he exited the stairs into the mass of humanity clashing in the main entrance quad. He spun in place, unable to see her for the blurring crowd. _Where is she? _His last view was of her tacit acceptance, her eyes softening towards him, then the explosions, then …

"_Sarah_!" The M-16's grip felt slick in his right hand, the weight of it dragging at his arm. Though he knew it was lighter than most of his weapons back home, its literal dead weight pulled its muzzle towards the dirt floor. Chet's lessons slammed in his mind.

_Always hold it upright, across your chest, ready to fire…_

He pulled it back into proper position.

_Make sure the safe's off before you shoot…_

Jareth glanced down, felt his right thumb center on the textured button and pressed it flush to the stock's surface.

_Line up your sights with what you want to hit and place your first finger over the trigger…_

The curved metal of the trigger was smooth and reassuring as he searched for a target.

_And whatever you do, don't shoot friendlies!_

His innate fey bloodlust, sparked earlier by the Bowie knife, thrummed in his veins when the sight, sounds and smells of battle consciously struck him, peeling back his veneer of civility. Tangy mortal blood and sweat teased his nose, making his heart and groin throb. His people, so naturally violent, constantly struggled with the temptation to succumb. Now that he allowed his mind to concentrate on the mortal weapon, the reality of battle washed over and drowned him, overriding his rationality. With a rumbling growl, Jareth zeroed in on one he knew to be a Vulture, a harsh featured man cutting the throat of a younger one near the tunnel's edge. As he ran, Jareth brought the M-16 up to his face and aimed true, his ancestors' bloodlust screaming for violence against the perpetrator.

"Arrrrgh!" Several feet from his target, he squeezed; the trigger depressed cleanly. The weapon spasmed in his hands, power numbing them as it coughed out his fury in an almost uncontrollable stream pulling up and right, blossoming a crimson line over the Vulture's torso. The evil-doer, spattered in fresh blood from his victim, jerked up in time to see a Goblin King in battle mode running him down seconds before bullets tore him apart. Jareth stood, panting over the gasping, gagging man.

The Vulture twitched and groaned, his life leaking out too slowly for Jareth's liking. He switched the M-16 to his left hand and unclipped the knife from its sheath with his right, sliding it out. Light reflected on the highly whetted blade, catching the Vulture's attention. The surrounding noise receded for Jareth as he tunnel-visioned, his jaw squared and his eyes glittering.

"N-no … p-please …" the man, dressed in unwashed clothing and bits of human souvenirs, stretched up a trembling arm, his fingers coated in fresh and dried blood.

Jareth cocked his head to one side, his voice frozen. "You would beg for mercy?"

"_Yes_!"

Deliberately, he placed his booted foot on the man's chest and pushed. The Vulture gargled and squirmed, clawing at his leather-encased shin. Leaning down, Jareth pressed the hair's-breath, sharp edge of his knife to the man's throat until he felt it cut his sun-thickened skin. The Vulture's hands flew from Jareth's boot to the knife, eyes boggling.

"Fey don't believe in mercy," Jareth said as he finished the slice with one firm, downward and outward stroke. Blood spurted, the hot fountain hitting his face. Jareth blinked to protect his eyes and licked the salty prize from his lips. Another sort of lust roiled in his loins, stirring his ancient birthright when the mortal blood absorbed into his system. He stood, shuddering, as thoughts of conquest and domination filled him.

_Sarah! _

"Sarah," he whispered, his rational mind snapping back. The continuing battle crystallized in strident detail; he turned from his victim, searching for her. So many fought, they blurred; difficult to distinguish one from another other than the Vultures seemed to be wearing human parts as adornment.

"_Typical cannibalistic behavior_ _of pointless humans," _his father said with a heavy, disparaging tone.

_No more violent than most fey, Da. _

His father gave no answer.

Jareth fought his way through the throng, cautious to strike only those he deemed Vulture, his knife warm and syrupy with mortal blood. The M-16 was slung across his torso, out of his way but close at hand. Chet was right. Its power, dead or not, was addictive to his fey temperament. His bloodlust sang it usefulness and itched to experience the pounding again, but his rational mind feared injuring innocent humans, specifically Sarah. No, the knife, formed like a short saber, was far better to such close quarters. Meanwhile, he internally battled his passions, fought to keep a clear head between the bloodlust and the sexual desire inflaming him with every kill.

Time elapsed and Jareth soon stood amongst the survivors, the last of the Vultures either killed or run off. Moans and cries circled him; he lowered his outstretched arms, the muscles burning and clenching. His stomach protested the lack of food as his adrenaline trickled off, and he felt deep exhaustion settle, triggering a pointed migraine behind his eyes. Falling where he stood sounded blissful.

_I must find Sarah first. _

It turned out to less challenging than he feared, though just as stressful. Sarah's cries drew him as if he were tethered to her. Unerringly, Jareth stumbled over and around bloody and broken survivors to her side. She crouched next to another severely injured woman, whom she embraced tightly. The other woman's breathing grew shallower as she spoke; she was not long for this world. Hesitant to interrupt her, Jareth waited and listened.

"… God, Holloway, why?" Sarah cried.

"Sarah … listen." Holloway gasped, pulling at Sarah's shoulder. "Toby …"

"Toby? What about him?" Sarah's voice raised an octave.

"He's …" Holloway shivered, her eyes fluttering. "They … took him."

"Oh God." Sarah's face blanched.

Jareth tightened his grip his knife's tacky handle. _Tobias lives? He's kidnapped? By _them_? _

"Sorry," Holloway whispered with her last breath, her body going lax in Sarah's arms.

Tears clearing tracks over her dirty, bloody cheeks, Sarah looked up to see Jareth scowling down, his right hand squeezing the Bowie knife until it shook. Coagulating gore oozed from the curved tip to soak the packed dirt floor between them.

"We'll get him back, Sarah. I _swear_ it."

Holding back a sob, her breath hitching at the rear of her throat, Sarah stared at the horrific vision of the warrior Goblin King glaring down at her, red and black imprinting upon her soul, and smiled.

"I know," she said with a moment of perfect contentment.

Jareth grinned.

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><p><strong>HachimansKitsune: <strong>Voila! Battle scene from Jareth's POV AND M-16! God, I love writing action/battle scenes! So ... awesome! I got on a roll yesterday and couldn't stop. Hope you likey!

**Buffy: **Here ya go! Two chappies in one week!

**Angelwells: **Def. more drama will more to come. And yes, this chap. has Sarah starting to "pull her head from her ass". It's a slow process, but it'll happen.

**Angelus Draco: **LOL, okay, so I'm not sure if you're being sarcastic or not. :o) I will accept it either way. Someone on another site compared my first chap of "Falling" to Karen Moning's style of dark story telling. I'll take the compliment as she's a best seller! Woohoo! My first epub will be out later this year and I'm hoping the original version of this will be shortly after since I'm writing them simultaneously. Thanks for sticking with me from the beginning, btw!

**randomperson: **Thanks! More drama is coming and UST will be picking up, especially from Jareth first. Sarah is has lots of personal issues. Thanks!

**Lily-beth-bluebell: **Lucky you I'm on a roll with this fic this week. So you get a fast update. Generally I update 1-2 times a month as I'm writing several fics as once, but this one is on my radar big time right now. I'm so flattered that you're reading outside your usual genre due to my story/writing. That's a huge compliment! I hope I continue to keep your attention and I promise this one has a happy ending. My fics marked Dark J/Dark S don't have fluffy happy endings, just fyi.

**Lady Augustin: **Oh they will, at this chapter's end you see one of the reasons they're willing to come together. I'll explain more about Toby later on. There is a reason (as there are always reasons with all my fics) Teehee. Thanks!

**DavidBowie'sPants: **I hear ya. I love Bowie more too, but I do love the dynamic between Sarah and Jareth. They're the main reason I write for Laby. They're characters are so amazing and flexible, yet solid with such capacity for depth. And I love writing very deep, complex characters within angsty plots. Things that really challenge and force character growth. God, it gives me shivers just writing about it. To me, that's what good writing is all about! The meat of human emotion! Hope Action!Jareth! satisfied and there'll be more of him. Just 'cause he has no magic doesn't mean he's helpless. He's a badass mo-fo. And yes, Toby is beginning to react. But why? Hmmm...

**Tausha: **Hmm.. sorry. Toby is out of his cell but not the way you hoped. And he didn't kill anybody. But there's a reason for everything which will be revealed in due time. Muahahahahahaha!

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><p><strong>AN: I love when a story clicks in my head! Now that my muse is on a roll, she's screaming 'write!' and I obey. Seriously, I wrote this all since I lost updated. And I've got smut scenes working in my head for later chapters. (that's right multiple smut scenes!) There's more action, more angst, more twists and more violence to come as Sarah and Jareth start there quest to recover Toby. Who will accompany them? **

**And who got my lovely reference in this chapter to David himself? My muse suggested that this morning and I was all squeeeeee must add it! It really took the whole chapter up several notches IMO. And it's a nice, long chappie with another evil cliffie.  
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**I won't promise to be able to update as quickly for the next chapter but I'm on a roll, so who knows! I tend to write very fast when my muse is pushing me.  
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**Thanks and Enjoy Reading!  
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**Jinx  
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	14. Chapter 14

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><p><strong>Chapter 14<strong>

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"Get out of my way, Sam," Sarah tried to side-step the large man, but he blocked her again, his arms outstretched.

"Think 'bout what you're doing."

"I am." She feinted left, then dodged right, his bulkiness no match for her speed and flexibility. Sam's cussing amused a stoic Jareth, who leaned on the storeroom's door jamb. Still covered in blood, sweat and filth, he had followed Sarah directly from the battle after they learned of Toby's fate. They passed Sam en route, and once he saw the look of determination on Sarah's face, he immediately tried stopping her.

Sam's restraining hand on her shoulder made Sarah pivot and grip his wrist simultaneously, twisting his arm painfully. "Don't touch me!"

They stared each other down, Sam testing. With his bulk and foreknowledge of how she fought, he could easily overpower her, but he waited. Jareth pushed off the door frame, tensing, prepared to intervene should she need him. However, both had forgotten his presence as their arms and bodies strained.

Sam leaned in close to her, his voice so low Jareth barely heard him. "You don't need to do this, Sarah."

"The hell I don't!" She shoved him so hard he fell onto a pile of non-perishable food boxes on a nearby table, scattering them like roaches. A few burst open, exposing a type of curved, dried pasta Jareth once tried covered in cheese sauce, bland but pleasing. Actually, his stomach growled since he had yet to enjoy any real food. _Later, _he thought with a sigh, partially resigned to never eating again, _best to deal with this first. _

Turning from the stunned Sam, Sarah started gathering supplies and ammo, heedlessly stuffing them into a large olive-green rucksack. No words passed between the three for several moments, only the sounds of metal and pre-packaged containers being slid into the bag carried in the room. Jareth and Sam exchanged a guarded look. Taking a chance, Jareth cautiously approached her while warily eyeing Sam, who stood and brushed off his dignity.

"Sarah," he drawled.

She jumped, face agog with shock and intensity. Her long brown hair hung in matted hanks, a few frizzy strands drifting about her head like a wretched halo. Dirt and dried gore painted her face making her dilated chestnut eyes appear black. He knew he looked no better, could feel his clothes and hair stiffening as the blood dried. But Sarah…

She was gruesome. She was magnificent. His cock twitched, hardening, the taste of mortal blood still on his tongue. He could hardly restrain his urge to strip her naked, slam her against the wall and revel in her carnage-soaked body, forcefully taking her as in ancient times. Thrusting, pounding, dominating, his ears begged to hear her scream his name in—

"What?" she snapped, pulling him from his lust-addled mind-trip.

_Damn fey bloodlust! _

Mentally slapping himself, he wished for a cold spring in which to dunk his overheated hormones. Frustrated for numerous reasons (some he refused to examine too closely) he growled at her and quickly stepped back to clean his head and nostrils of Sarah's primitive scent. He pinched his nose, then cleared his throat.

"Whatever your plan, you'll not attempt it without me."

She glared at him for a few seconds. "Fine, better hurry and pack then. I'm leaving in five."

"Sarah," Sam, said, rejoining the conversation. Both she and Jareth hardly spared him a moment as they shoved items into bags, Sarah pointing out the necessary items to pack. "Chasing after Vultures like this, you'll both be killed!"

"So be it," she said, not pausing. "But the longer we take the farther away get."

"You don't even know where they're going."

"You taught me everything I know about tracking, Sam. I'll find the bastards."

Sam grabbed her from behind and spun her around. "Listen to what you're saying!" He shook her; Jareth growled and lunged. Sarah knocked Sam's hands away and raised a hand to stop Jareth.

"Sam, either help me or get out of my way, but don't try to stop me!" She resumed packing, burying her face towards the bag and said in a strained voice, "I can't let them have Toby. _I can't_!" Tears collected at the corners of her eyes, and she viciously wiped them with her filthy sleeves. "I'd rather be dead," she whispered.

"I know." Sam's whole body hung on his bones. "Then I'm going with you."

She froze, arm halfway in the bag, facing away from him. "What?"

Jareth cocked his head over his shoulder, taking Sam's measure with an arched brow. "You would leave your sanctuary without leadership?"

Sam waved a hand dismissively. "I've been prepping Len for the job; he can handle it … for awhile."

"Hmm … assuming you return," Jareth said. Tentatively, Sarah turned, eyes darting over Sam's false jovial expression.

"Hey, give me some credit!" Sam said, grinning. "I'm not so easy to kill."

"Indeed."

"You'd do that," Sarah asked, quietly. "You'd come with me?" Jareth scowled at her lack of _us_ but kept silent.

"Hey, kiddo," he walked closer, opening his arms, "you think I'm about to let my best girl run off unprotected?"

"Oh, Sam!" Sarah fell into his arms, burying her head into his chest, sniffing. Uncertain, Jareth kept his distance. She truly revealed her vulnerability with Sam, and now with him as witness.

"_Excellent, my boy!" _ his father said. _"She's beginning to trust you."_

_I suppose_. Something about seeing her snuggled into Sam's embrace prickled him; he huffed and slumped against the edge of the table.

"You know," she said in a voice muffled by Sam's shirt. "While we're in the No-Where, if we hear anything about Sally …"

"Shh … don't …" Sam's voice cracked and his eyes pinched until his crow's feet were obvious.

Sarah looked up. "I just meant I want to return the favor. She could still be out there. We've found people before."

He patted her back and pulled her back into his embrace. "I know, kiddo." His face tightened downwards until the crinkles around his mouth and eyes deepened. "Let's just focus on getting Toby back for now, okay?"

"Okay." She sniffed again and nodded against his chest.

**.**

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"You're not going out there without me, dammit!"

"Chet, we don't have any time to waste—."

He held up two fingers as he ran towards his dorm. "Two minutes! I've got a go-bag stashed."

Sarah groaned, her fingers slipping loose on her backpack's shoulder straps. "Chet …"

"Two minutes, Fixer! Promise!" he yelled over his shoulder. "I'm the best scavenger here!"

"He would be useful," Jareth said. "He _is_ quite resourceful, for a bloody pain."

A tiny smile flickered over Sarah's mouth. "Fuck." She kicked the dirt, then yelled back. "Fine, just hurry!" Chet didn't answer as he was already out of earshot. Meanwhile, Sam came running from another hall, his harried voice giving instructions to Len, who's floundering expression tugged at Sarah's pity.

"But you're coming back, right Dad?"

He clapped his son on his back. ""Course I'm coming back. I just need you to hold down the fort for a bit."

Len fidgeted and shoved his hands in his pockets. "You think I can?"

"You can do this, Len." Sam squared off directly in front of him. "I believe in you. Just get everyone taken care of and keep'em organized. It's not that hard, really." Sam gave him a reassuring smile. "I'll be back 'fore you know it."

The quad was filled with the battle's aftermath. The less injured either cared for themselves or assisted those more severally injured, while the dead waited to be removed. Seeing the fresh carnage now that her mind had calmed, Sarah struggled with the temptation to hide in a corner and rock her mind into oblivion. It hadn't worked years ago after _it_ happened and it wouldn't work now. Ironically, Toby today just as he had needed her then.

"We _will_ find him." Jareth's solemn tone hit her like a sledgehammer, knocking the wind from her lungs.

She faced him, picking over his appearance before asking coldly, "Why are you helping me?"

Jareth's wane smile did not reach his eyes. "Have I better things to do?"

"Hmm … I suppose not. Unless you're hoping to finish Toby off."

He 'tsked' and leaned into her personal space. Pungent odors of recent death and musk filled her nose, making her dizzy and dry-tongued. "I had no idea he lived until now and have no wish to harm him. But you," he sneered and whispered in her ear, "I suspect you withhold many more secrets from me, Sarah Williams."

Gasping, she jerked back from his breath teasing her hair and tickling her ear. A peculiar warmth rushed from her neck to her chest and squeezed. She shivered, and said harshly, "I don't have any secrets."

"Don't you? Hmm." He eased from her, standing regally by her side despite the God-knows-what caking his hair and flannel shirt, creating a monochromatic smudge of dark maroon. Even his leather pants and boots had lost their luster for the layers of grime and human filth. Even with the, incongruous for him, M-16 slung diagonally across his back and the deadly knife at his hip, Jareth still lost none of his royal stature.

_How's that possible? I feel like three layers of weaponzied cat shit rolled in stale oats, and he looks …. Grrr… and smells not completely awful. God, I hate him!_

Chet's pounding feet on the metal stairs echoed in the quad, saving Sarah from her far, far too wandering thoughts. "Ready to kill me some Vultures!" he said gleefully, bag and weapons bouncing as he ran.

"Great," she deadpanned and pivoted on one heel. "Let's go. Now or never, Sam!" she yelled, not waiting to see if he responded. She'd vaguely considered bringing Ole Bay, but their only horse was too slow and really only good for lugging weight. Right now they needed speed.

Ignoring everything else, including the suddenly disquieting Jareth, Sarah led the three men through the human damage littering the quad and tunnel. A few—more cognizant—survivors begged them not to go, others cursed them and still others wished them luck during their hunt, word having spread of Fixer losing a hidden-away, sick relative.

She tuned them all out, focusing her energy on marching out of the only place offering her safety since The Shove. In the gloom, the tunnel blurred as she stepped over bodies and chucks of shrapnel hazarding their path. Eventually she walked through the gaping hole where the metal doors used to stand guard inside the courtyard and into the harsh daylight.

Sarah didn't truly fear the No-Where; one had to feel to fear. But dealing with the Vultures meant facing with the past; regardless that the original attackers were gone, they held similar agendas. But she meant what she had said to Sam. She'd rather be dead than leave Toby to their agendas. For that matter, why Toby? Why take him at all? Why not others?

"Sam," she said as she withdrew her sunglasses from her rucksack.

"Yeah?" he replied next to her, slipping on his own glasses.

"Why do you think they took him?"

He grunted. "No telling."

Frowning, she looked at him. "Guess."

He shrugged, lowered and shook his head. "Shit, Fixer. I don't know. But … you know how much they like the helpless."

She faced the last wall separating them from the No-Where, its door blown wide open as well and allowing the dust to swirl inside the parameter. "Yeah, that I know."

"…_I like it when they cry … crying makes it more fun …" _

"_Please don't!"_

"_Beggin' works too." _

Sarah's deep, internal muscles clenched and spasmed, reliving the pain of years ago. Hiding the gut reaction causing her nearly double over, Sarah press one hand to her middle and grit her teeth. The stabbing of the Vultures' rape was so fresh again, she could've sworn she smelled blood and heard Toby crying.

"Let's get this over with," she said, her voice gruff.

Sam shifted his rucksack higher on his back and forged ahead, jaw set. "I'll find their trail. Stay single file behind me for now." Sarah followed him first with Jareth quickly on her heels, cutting Chet off without acknowledgment and shoving him aside with a strong hand and a well-placed foot.

Chet stumbled, tripping over Jareth's boot and almost landing face first before finding his balance. "What the hell?"

Jareth glanced over his shoulder and flashed an obscene Underground finger gesture. "That's for stealing my sunglasses."

"Fuck. Seriously?" He already wore a pair, but having a spare set was always a good idea. Chet dug through his jacket in a hurry, pulled out the set he lifted from Jareth and threw them at his back. "Here's your fucking glasses, Goblin King!"

Jareth felt the hard plastic strike his shoulder blade, then heard the dull thud of them landing on the ground. Quickly, he leaned down, scooped, brushed and slid them on. Immediately, his eyes relaxed as they cut the fractured brightness of the abnormal sky.

"Ah, Chet, I knew you would do the right thing, if properly motivated."

"Fuck you."

**.**

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Sam picked up the Vultures' tracks easy enough given there must've been dozens left during their retreat. They left a swathe of damage through the waste, a trail a five-year-old could've read. But Sarah knew it was temporary; the No-Where had a way of rapidly devouring everything. Had they delayed leaving a few hours, these tracks would've disappeared.

Speaking of delaying … now that her feet were active, her mind relaxed and her body lodged its complaints. They'd skipped any activity not considered critical, including bathing, eating and changing clothes. Therefore, itches, aches, smells, twitches, hungers and anything else her taxed body noticed became a list of misery. _Well, I can fix hunger. _Shifting her rucksack to one shoulder, she dug until she located the dehydrated meat and fruit. The canteen of water soon followed, which they needed to use judiciously as water sources were few.

"That smells delicious," Jareth said behind her, fast moving to even up.

She jutted her chin at him. "Mm, you should have some in your pack."

"Do I?"

"Uh, yeah."

"I suppose you're going to make me dig it out."

"Well you're not getting mine!" She took an extra-large bite and deliberately chewed, making smacking sounds. "Mm-mm, sooo good!"

"You're despicable."

"But I'm not hungry." She grinned and took another sloppy bite.

"So be it." Jareth awkwardly searched through his rucksack, one-handed, while walking and attempting to keep from losing his supplies. He ended up circling himself like a cat chasing his tail as he walked, and yet got no further into his bag.

"Oh, gimme the damn thing!" Sarah snatched it from him, dug for a minute, then handed him a baggie full of goodies. "Here!" Grabbing the prize from her, he ripped it open and ate without breathing while she carried his rucksack.

She couldn't help the silly grin tugging at her lips as she watched him eat like a spoiled toddler, shoving meat and fruit down his gullet between half-hearted chews. When had he last eaten? "You are so hopeless out here."

He licked his lips and fingers, then mumbled around his food, "Perhaps, but at least I'm not hungry anymore." He grinned as her smile faded.

"I hate you." She tossed his bag at him, which he barely caught, before stomping away.

"I know," he said, happily finishing his first full meal in days and laughing.

**.**

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><p><strong>.bluebell:<strong> Yep, the Vultures took Toby and they have their reasons. Thanks! As for the Bowie knife, see my A/N for the explanation. Glad you enjoyed it!**  
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**HachimansKitsune**: LOL, yeah I figured you'd get a kick out of Badass!Jareth! I made sure to make him extra bloodthirsty just for you. :o) Plus there's some tasty UST in this chappie. Of course, J and S are still figuring things out and how to work together and they haven't even BEGUN to have THE CONVERSATIONS. I also knew you'd catch the Bowie knife homage. So happy I thought of that at the last minute and was able to work it in so well. I really liked it too!

**Roronoa Emi**: LOL! You got the Bowie knife reference too, awesome! So cool! And J/S are starting to found some common ground, the UST begins!

**Angelwells**: Thanks! I really enjoyed writing this one and I like Jareth like this too. He'll be going in and out of this as the story progresses.

**DavidBowie'sPants**: LOL, yeah I know. Jareth is usually given swords and such which is exactly why I wanted to give him an M-16, but it was a delicate scene to write. Had to get it just right. Yes there is some UST on Jareth's, especially in this chapter and a tad bit on Sarah's, though Jareth's is denial and Sarah is deeply confused due to her past. I prefer similar stories - emotional gripping, challenging stories and interesting characters. And yes, fighting Jareth is a sexy Jareth, but I think a fighting Sarah is sexy to, but that's the ex-military girl in me.

**Joie Cullen:** Awesome! So happy you liked! As for if Jareth can get any hotter... I guess we'll find out because I plan on pushing the boundaries! Did you like the UST this chappy?

**Angelus Draco**: Cool, as per my pm it's all good. :o) Vengeful Jareth is sexy too and the Vultures will be sorry they messed with him and Sarah, but of course I torture J/S beforehand.

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><p><strong>AN: Glad everyone really enjoyed the last chapter! I really enjoyed writing it. Being ex-military, I really enjoy writing action scenes, especially gory or descriptive ones. Finally making Jareth succumb to his fey bloodlust was such as blast, which as you know realize in this chapter pushes him towards his sexual lust. And so the UST begins. And more adventure and fun!  
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**As for the Bowie Knife reference for those he didn't understand the full significance: the story goes that David Bowie (real name David Robert Jones) choose his stage name, Bowie, from the Bowie knife invented by James Bowie in the 1800's. James Bowie died at the Alamo (in my home state of Texas). I've described the Bowie knife accurately, though the blades may vary slightly, they're large, wide knives (often up to 12" long x 2-3" wide) usually with either a curved and/or doubled sharped tip. They're shaped somewhat like a short saber and are known to be quite deadly in capable hands. Ironically, Texas was one of the first states to outlaw civilians carrying Bowie knives except for hunting purposes. **

**Enjoy and Thanks for Reading!**

**Jinx  
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	15. Chapter 15

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><p><strong>Chapter 15<strong>

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They walked until full dark, then walked a bit further until Chet located a row of ramshackle houses set off the road. At sunset, they'd used their blankets as capes, wrapped them tightly around their torsos to retain as much body heat as possible. With temperatures quickly dropping, they wasted little time setting up camp and getting a fire started inside a decaying fireplace in one of the houses.

Having a fire was a calculated risk. Without it they might freeze; with it Vultures (or other dangers) might spot the smoke. They took the chance that most sought shelter, eschewing travel at night. After all, Vultures risked freezing to death the same as them.

They huddled in a horseshoe around the hearth, the cold easing from their limbs as it warmed the space. Sarah place a small pan filled with water on the fire until it boiled, then removed it. Initially too hot, by the time she unpacked her soap and old washcloth, it was the perfect temperature for what her real mother used to call a "French Whore's Bath"—basically cleaning the most important parts, staring with her face and hands and ending with her private area and feet.

Water was a precious resource, but so was cleanliness. After such an extreme battle, Sam and Chet imitated Sarah. Soon, all three crouched over their pans, removing articles of clothing when appropriate. Jareth, however, stared at the unusual practice, unsure of what to do.

"You don't want a bath?" she asked him once her face was clean and Jareth's staring had crossed the line from exciting to uncomfortable.

"I've never … bathed like that before." His nose wrinkled and his lips curled.

She snorted. "Yeah, I bet you're used to solid gold faucets and beautiful maidens scrubbing your back." Looking up from their chore, Chet and Sam laughed lightly.

"As a matter of fact, I am."

"Yeah … well, you wouldn't be so smug if you could see how gross you look right now."

"Hmm." Jareth scratched his face, felt the stubble of several days abrade his fingers along with flecks of Danu-knew-what. "Being a king does have its advantages."

She threw her sopping rag at him, making him duck and catch it one-handed. Grayish water ran down his up-thrusted arm, spraying his face and causing him to squint before he let it fall to the floor with wet _plop_. Chet and Sam had both froze, watching with growing interest.

"Better learn to wash yourself, Goblin King! 'Cause I'm not about to scrub your damn back!"

His smooth baritone chuckle filled the small room. "No, I suppose not."

Grumbling, she dug through her bag for a second washcloth, then pulled out a change of clothes and a large plastic bag. She addressed Sam, while pointedly ignoring Jareth. "If we find a water source, we can clean these, until then they're going in the bag."

"Agreed. Yours too, Jareth," Sam said as he slipped off his crusty shirt and handed it to Sarah. "We took enough of a risk today smelling as bad as we do. Anything could've caught our trail."

"I have no spare clothing."

"No worries," Sam said as he pulled extra shirts from his rucksack. "I've got a t-shirt you can wear."

Reaching across their small circle, Jareth accepted Sam's gift, then frowned at his pants. "I fear my trousers are not replaceable."

Chet nodded toward the rag Sarah lobbed at him earlier. "At least wipe the leather down, it'll help."

"Yes, of course." He picked up the rag and started to scrub the worst of the filth away.

"We have a limited amount of water, so be use it wisely," Sarah said harshly, continuing her bath. Crouching to better reach the water, he glanced at her from his under his stiffened bangs and nodded before returning to his task. Behind him, the orange flames silhouetted his patrician features, placing his lithe figure in black outline as he carefully scrubbed.

Sounds of the crackling fire and the men cleaning filled the air as Sarah studied Jareth. For some reason, she couldn't stop watching him: The efficient motions of his arms, the way his long fingers tighten around the rag when he dipped and squeezed, dipped and squeezed. The dark outline of the tight-fitting leather over his thighs and how it glinted in the fire as he cleaned it and shifted his weight, then worked the cloth up higher. Despite their earlier sniping, watching him now calmed her frazzled nerves and made thinking about Toby less … raw.

Her breathing shortened when his hands grasped the edges of his filthy shirt and worked the buttons loose from the bottom, each one exposing another pallid shadow of his skin. Before she knew it, Jareth shrugged off his shirt and stood in the firelight, bare-chested and leanly muscular beneath the remnants of dirt, blood and bruises clinging to his skin.

Frowning, Sarah swiftly looked down, a negative image of his pale, faintly shimmering torso seared onto her mind. She clenched her jaw and fisted her hands, willing away the strange prickling coursing through her, making her chest feel tight and her lower torso between her legs feel … tingly. _He must still have some magic, that's why I feel so weird around him. _Eyes averted from the frustrating fey, she leaned over the pan and wrung out her washcloth with a vengeance. _It's a spell or somethi—_

Her thought stuttered when his hands bumped hers over the pan. A feeling akin to static electricity zapped her and she jerked her hands back, tucking them to her chest. Their eyes met and she tried to be mad, sputtered as she worked up a solid rant, but his tentative, lop-sided smile made that odd tightness in her chest return and her false ire fled.

"My apologies," he said, so low she more read his lips in the half-light than heard him.

"S'okay," she mumbled, shuffling away. "I'm done." She felt him watching her as she dug through her bag; she felt him studying her as she prepared her sleeping roll; and she felt the weight of his restrained tongue—_what did he want to say?—_while she tucked herself in. She refused, however, to acknowledge him, keeping her vision lined up with the fire between her three companions, Jareth's motionless shadow in her periphery.

Finally, as she held her breath and waited for her rumbling empty stomach to settle, Jareth resumed his bathing. Soft splashes of water and mild scrubbing became her mantra as she concentrated on it and the snapping fire. It wasn't until just before she drifted off to sleep that she realized she could easily differentiate any sound of Jareth's from Chet and Sam.

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An insistent nudge butted the small of his back, dragging Jareth from a restless sleep borne more from exhaustion rather than comfort. Reaching around, he blindly batted one hand at the nuisance. "Leave off, Jenea!" The nudge returned, harder, prompting his eyes to fly open as he rolled over.

"Gah, Jenea, I said—." His next words died as he muscles reacted while his brain stammered at the horror looming over him. Rolling back to his side, he continued the motion and angled his body until he bumped into Sarah. She jerked awake, her head popping up from the floor, eyes wide. In the pre-dawn gray, their eyes met, nose-to-nose, and for a split second the startled green sliver of her dilated irises absorbed his attention, making him forget the danger. Fortunately, Sarah wasn't similarly affected.

"Fuck! Empties!" she shouted, sitting up and pushing away from him. Sam jumped from a dead sleep to a crouch, while Chet lurched to his hands and feet. Jareth quickly joined them and they instinctively circled with their backs touching, watching the dozens of apparently mindless people filling the room.

"What do they want?" Jareth whispered, his right hand inching to his knife.

"Don't know," Sam answered just as quietly. "They're walking aimlessly; maybe we can sneak past them." They exchanged silent shrugs and nods in the gradually lightening room, the sun chasing off the chill which the cooling embers no longer held at bay.

"If we can get our things without disturbing any …" Sarah said as she leaned for her rucksack which had doubled as her pillow.

Jareth's belongings were farther away, and the Empty which woke him wandered the area with more joining him. Chet and Sam gathered their things, keeping wary eyes on the shadowy figures. The one Empty near Jareth's bag, was an overly thin male of indeterminate age dressed in filthy clothes. What struck Jareth, more than anything else, was the severe blankness in his expression. The man's facial muscles hang slackly from the underlying bones and a bottomless haze swirled in his eyes.

He gingerly approached the Empty, his peripheral vision tracking the dozen or so others milling about nearby. Now fully conscious, their smell hit Jareth in a tidal wave. Stale and unwashed, it was far beyond missing a few baths. The stench encompassed the room like a weighted aura.

"Hurry!" Sarah hissed at him. Looking back, he saw the three of them slipping on their rucksacks, preparing to flee the rapidly filling room.

_Where are they all coming from? _

"Bloody hell," he muttered, lunging for the rumpled green sack. Mid-crouch, he accidentally body-checked the man, knocking him back just as his fingers enveloped a shoulder strap. Freezing in place, Jareth looked up as he heard someone—he couldn't tell whom— cussing behind him. Seconds became elastic when the Empty tilted his head down and stared, dull eyes blinking in his sun-burnt face framed by long crusty hair. For a heartbeat, Jareth swore intelligence sparked in the man's eyes, so close that even in the gray light Jareth thought he saw _something _stirring, then it vanished with the Empty blinked and unending ash returned. The Empty shrieked, jumping at Jareth with clawed hands and flying spittle.

"Watch out!"

"Bloody hell!" Jareth fell back, bag in hand, and pivoted from his side to his feet, narrowly escaping the Empty's ragged nails which scraped along his neck and face. The shallow cuts burned, stinging ten times more than he expected; he winced and swiped at his neck, feeling blood welling up.

"I thought you said Empties weren't violent," Jareth said, directing his statement to Sam.

"Not as long as you don't disturb them," Sam said.

"Yeah," Chet said. "But I've never seen so many flock like this or attack like _that!_"

Having missed him, the Empty staggered and tripped to land on his hands and knees, snarling and throwing his head up. A great howl rose up from the other Empties, their indifference to their group suddenly evaporating as they shifted and turned in a one motion to face the four huddled back-to-back in a circle. The Empties stepped towards them, the rising sun peeking at their backs through the open door and cracked windows, creating an unholy corona.

"What the fuck did you do?" Sarah asked, slipping her M-16 from her shoulder to her hands.

"I have no idea. I didn't strike him hard," Jareth replied, freeing his knife from its sheath. It's perfectly balanced weight hefted in his right hand, resting snugly between the well-worn pommel and guard as if it were custom forged for him. His bloodlust, hardly calmed from the previous battle, hummed beneath his skin, eager for free reign. The accompanying carnal response in his lower torso, now so painfully in tune with Sarah's proximity, nearly distracted him from the swiftly approaching danger.

"Enough chatter," Sam snapped. "We got bigger problems, like how to get out of here." The metallic slide, snap, click of three M-16s chambering a first round reverberated as they faced the incoming horde. Only feet separated them from dozens of Empties, snarling towards them.

"Then what'da we waitin' for?" Chet said as he fired into the crowd. Bullets tore apart their tattered clothing, uncovering old wounds side-by-side with the new. Some Empties, being thinner and weaker, fell immediately to writhe or die on the floor. But the stronger ones took the damage and lurched through the onslaught to fall at their feet, grasping and tearing at their legs. Jareth slashed at hands and arms dragging him down, yet more followed and soon his leather pants were soaked in blood again.

"Move. Move!" Sam pushed at him; Jareth saw the others arrowing a way through the non-stop horde. Gunfire was punctuated by inhuman screams. Sarah and Chet were already gaining some distance, and if he didn't listen to Sam he'd be the only left behind.

Quickly exchanging his knife for his rifle, Jareth copied the others' actions: firing while stepping towards the exit, never stopping their momentum. Still awkward in the usage of the M-16, nonetheless his initial fear remained correct. His fey nature craved its ferocity, crowing every time he killed or maimed an attacking Empty. Feeling his rational mind disconnect, Jareth flowed within his bloodlust, reveling in the kills, uncaring and unknowing of his physical surroundings.

One Empty slipped past his guard, grabbed his neck and they both fell with Jareth landing atop the thing. The hard smack on the dirt did little to daze either one. Simultaneously, Jareth released his grip on the M-16 and unfettered his knife, using it and his superior weight and position to stab, repeatedly, into the thing's gut. The smell of fresh evisceration and the feel of slippery hot blood coating his blade, hand and forearm, hit him and Jareth growled, sinking his teeth in the Empties exposed neck.

_Bliss! _Tasting fresh blood of one's kill, human or fey… He needed … _he needed_ … _**he **__**needed**__…_

"What the fuck are you doing?" a man said, yanking him from his kill. Jareth backhanded the bulky, annoying person. His bloodlust overcame any desire for killing the pest as he sought out his new prey … there… Her aroma bloomed stronger than any blood.

"Oh … God, Jareth?"

She spoke his name. She knew they were mated. Even her arms up and palms out looked to be beckoning and welcoming to him given his current state of mind. A second man attempted to stop him as well, but Jareth shoved him aside without a glance and grabbed Sarah's forearms, slick blood on his hands staining her skin. Yanking her to him, his arms became bands around her torso as he ground his heavy erection into her pelvis.

"W-what …" She panted and tried to pull away. Jareth could see her eyes fluttering and knew her wall against him crumbled.

With the taste of blood in his mouth and the scent of Sarah in his nose, Jareth knew he must have her now. "Mine …" he said, lowering his lips to hers. Her eyes widened and she trembled but she didn't struggle. "Other half," he whispered just before his lips touched hers. Sarah moaned, then a sharp pain lanced from his head to his neck and he saw a shocked look on Sarah's face before blackness.

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Sam stared down at an unconscious Jareth, again covered in blood. Sam would've hardly believe the truth if he hadn't witnessed it for himself—a berserker Jareth ripping open the last Empty's jugular with his teeth. He didn't seem to actually drink the blood, but some obviously was in his mouth since it coated his lips and dribbled on his chin. The danger passed, the Empties either killed or outsmarted, they'd found temporary cover in another house, but Jareth had continued the violence, dragging an Empty inside the building and getting medieval on him.

That's when Sam knew Jareth was out of control, so when he approached Sarah he didn't hesitate to knock him out. Ironic how Jareth appear so peaceful now that he'd pistol whipped him with the butt of his rifle. Usually so controlled, you'd never know the man was a freaking manic during battle.

"You okay, Sarah?" Sam asked, one hand gripping her quivering elbow.

A shaky nod. "Yeah." She kept staring at Jareth, too, a look of incredulity smeared across her face.

"He didn't hurt you?"

"No." Head shake and another body tremble.

"He alive?" Sam asked Chet, who knelt by Jareth's head probing for damage, then checking his vitals.

"Still breathing, though I 'spect he'll have a helluva headache when he wakes up."

"Good."

Sarah turned to him and asked sharply, "Too him being alive or the headache?"

"Both." Her brows furrowed as she nibbled her lower lip. "You got a problem with either, Fixer?"

"No," she said softly, her body slumping in on itself. "I just … wish I knew why he attacked me like that."

Sam chuckled lightly and turned Sarah to face him directly, his hands gripping her shoulders. "He didn't attack you, not really."

"What do you mean?"

"I knew guys in the military … they'd get deep into the killin' during a hardcore battle; at a certain point the bloodlust flips to pure lust. They can't help it."

"You mean," she glanced at Jareth again, sprawled out supine on what used to be a living room floor, "he didn't know he was about to," she gulped, "... with me?"

"Basically. Your Goblin King, he's a berserker."

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><p><strong>David Bowie's Pants:<strong> Oh yes, action, death, bloodlust, mayhem... Lots of fun in the No-Where. Well, I figured Jareth hadn't eaten in a few days (any decent) and he was really hungry. Any person would gobble food after days without it. LOL, that's the great part about good angst, the will they or won't they frustration. They only part the sucks if it a story never delivers (which mine always do) Well, making it back isn't necessary the goal. As for Jareth hearing his father's voice: Well we'll go with your explanation C: lack of magic has fried Jareth's brain, plus I needed something to help keep Jareth grounded as a fey in all the humanness. I like to use it as a counter-point to Jareth's POV. Sometimes it agrees, sometimes it doesn't. Just like our parents.

**Mrs. Naara: **Awesome! Thanks! It's always great to hear that a story grabs readers right off and pulls them through all the chapters. This one is one of my slower burn fics, but it's really getting some momentum now! I'm enjoying both J/S versions in this one, though I tend to always enjoy them. :o)

**Angelwells: **Thanks! Yeah, his bloodlust is almost its own character, lol! But I thought it really added to the angst. Here's a rape survivor and a guy who's drawn to her, they're in violent situations and he's having more difficulty keeping control of himself. Yet, they're connected.

**Tausha: **Exactly! Gotta love the gore = lustiness! Lots of good stuff awaits them in the No-Where, plus plot twists! Woohoo!

**Lily-beth-bluebell: **He'll find out eventually and even if 'action' doesn't happen in a chapter, often the slow scenes are just as important to character development and story clues. I try very, very hard to never write filler. Thanks! I'm loving Jareth's bloodlust too! It's fun to write.

**Hachiman'skitsune: **lol, his sunnies, yeah that was a total ad-lib as I wrote it. I thought- hey, J doesn't have his sunglasses anymore because Chet took them, grrr... So WWJD? Muahahaha! Exactly. Yeah, J and S are both having the tingles and they're A) resisting B) have no real clue (which is mostly Sarah since her only experience was - er- bad C) still mostly don't like each other hence see A & B but Jareth isn't inexperienced he just refused to acknowledge he could feel anything for HER. Hence the required spark from the bloodlust getting him going to get her going. Muahahaha!

**Angelus Draco: **As they say, "Don't cry for me, Argentina!" I plan on making the Vultures appropriately evil so they we may all rejoice at their comeuppance. And to the best of my ability, you'll SEE it. Thanks!

**Gaeliceyes: **Thanks! I do love to write things off the beaten path. The farther the better sometimes. Of course, it makes for odd amounts of readers sometimes because some don't know what to do with my fanfic. I don't write fluffy bunny stories, though I do have some fluff. As I took you in the pm'd and I'll now say for everyone else *spoiler* No one else went up in green flames *end spoiler*. I've always written lusty GK, but this is my first time writing an out-of-control GK and it's def. fun to see how far I can push the character. As for the grammar, as I pm'd I don't use a beta for my fanfic, only my my original work (and she's overworked enough as we exchange chapters and triple edit), due to real world time constraints. I self-edit twice before I post, but at some point you've just got to upload and move on. In the future, I'd love to have a pm'd about any errors you spot so I can fix them when I have the time. And GK's modern speech: he's a creature of both worlds as I tried to illustrate by his musings on photography, macaroni and a few other modern items. In this version, it seems to me that a versatile GK would speak easily in the vernacular of both worlds. Just my opinion. Thanks for reading! And I hope you continue to enjoy the read of the fic!

**buffy: **Happiness is a warm gun, lol! Yeah, Sarah is projecting a lot of hate and guilt onto Jareth, but she has a lot of self hate and guilt to deal with. He's a great target for it. I'll give you a clue about Toby: He is that damaged. He's not faking. But I have a plan! You've got some plot bunnies from this and "Sold the world"? Awesome! You haven't written anything on FF for months. I hope you post something and just in case, you have my permission to use this version to jump from. Awww... thanks! I know, I've gotten sucked into my original works hard lately. Then this one bit me again. Never say never about anything, but I'm slowing moving more and more into original fic and away from fanfic. Though it is fun! Dee is great too, she's still working on her Princess and the Goblin Fanfic from NaNo last year, but I think she wants to finish it before she posts it. Hachi's coming up fast, too!

**Bananaroma: **Of course I took your advice. I always listen to good advice. :o) I had sort of thought about it before, but was all - meh - but when you said that I was like, yeah, I should've done that. Bad jinx. And thank you! I agree! No topic should be off limits, whether a writer wants to write about it or not is up to them and whether a reader wants to read it, same. But to declare certain topics taboo is insane! It's all the human experience, therefore it's all legitimate! But of course, some should be treated with extreme respect, otherwise, have at it! People are searching for connections and likemindedness. Writers have a responsibility to use their abilities to connect people through word-smithing and taking people beyond what's comfortable and easy. Fluffy stories are great and have their place, but so do hard hitting deep emotional stories that make you think. I generally prefer writing the latter.

**Autumn O'Shea Swan: **That's twenty lashes for you, missy! LOL, it's all good! I know how busy and stressed you are with finals. BTW you should be done? How'd it all go? How that English class finish out? And the referral? Thanks! Glad you're liking the bloodlust and their banter.

**mynagoldenwings: **Great to hear from you again! So glad you pm'd me! I hope you're going to post a new story soon! Thanks, glad you're liking it!

**Lady Augustin: **Thanks and good spot! Yes, Jareth did get a tad jealous when Sam was comforting her. And so it begins... It's always gratifying to know my dialogue and subtle descriptions come across. I dislike being too obvious, hoping the reader will read between the lines and merge with the characters. Awesome!

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><p><strong>AN: I am so on a roll with this fic and I'm loving it! I admit, the last part of this, with Jareth, gave me chills. I wasn't sure quite how to write it at first, but once I did, I knew it had to go like this. M-16's and Jareth don't really mix too well, or I should say, they mix a little TOO WELL. lol! Glad everyone is really digging this as we start getting into the real action of the story. Their adventure is just starting, though I won't have them wandering about too long. Just enough to get messed up and nuts. Though I haven't started the next chapter, I already know what I want so it should be a quick write. As always...**

**Enjoy and Thanks for Reading!  
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**Jinx  
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	16. Chapter 16

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><p><strong>Chapter 16<strong>

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Darkness … gray … obscure shapes and sounds tugged at him, Jareth swam up through the fog into a sharp throbbing pain at the base of his skull. Nausea overcame him and he rolled to his side, retching, eyes pinched shut. The rough feel of old, filthy carpet scraped his palms as he supported his upper body until he finished dry-heaving, then rested his forehead to the same harsh surface. His hair curtained either side of his face, filtering out some of the awful sunlight. A hand brushed between his shoulder blades; he jumped slightly but otherwise kept his position.

"You okay?" a soft voice asked. Sarah.

"Hardly."

"You do look like shit, but at it's an improvement from earlier."

Groaning, Jareth pivoted his body and laid on his side in order to scowl up at her sarcasm. "And how did I look earlier?"

"You," she dropped her eyes and blushed, "don't remember?"

"Would I be asking if I—" _Blood … coppery salt on his tongue … tearing, biting, BLISS… _"—remembered …" The sensory memories struck him, intensifying his headache, making him flinch and stutter.

"Oh, then Sam was right. You are a berserker."

"What?" Jareth forced himself to a sitting position, ignoring his pain and the accompanying queasiness. Why did she sound oddly … satisfied? And why did it have to be so bloody bright? "I'm a what? Where is Sam?" He looked around the ramshackle home they squatted in, he partially sitting up while Sarah knelt in front of him. "And Chet?"

Sarah made a nonchalant shooing motion with her hand while shrugging. "They're double checking the area for Empties and supplies while you recover. You've been out for about an hour."

"And?" He glared, unwilling to allow her to sidestep the bigger issue he suspected lurked between them. It swelled like overcooked pasta the longer she delayed.

"And …" She fidgeted in her hunched position, studying her scuffed boots. "Sam explained why you acted so crazy; why you … um … started to … get … sort of … physical with me."

"I _what_?" _Violence … passion … lust … slippery viscera coating his hands … his blade incising, cutting … hot, sticky … hard … straining … throbbing… want … must take … must conquer... _Jareth squeezed his head in his hands, trying to shove away the images and sensations while Sarah continued speaking, her voice droning at the edge of his hearing. Abrupt disconnection smashed, his headache pulsing his eardrums so hard he feared they would burst. Too bright … too hard … he hands became a vise around his head and tears formed in his eyes, and still Sarah spoke as if she didn't notice his plight.

"He said you were a berserker, said that when the battle takes you over, you can't control your actions."

"No…" He forcibly wrenched his concentration back. Ran from the expanding pressure inside his skull.

"Yes, Jareth, you bit an Empty."

"Oh, Danu …" He moaned, rocking in place, legs curled into his torso.

"And you were going to …"

He froze; their eyes met and he read everything she couldn't say in her conflicted expression—hurt, anguish, but above all, confusion. "Not possible, it's not possible," he said. _Need … uncontrollable need exploding from his veins … lust, hunger burning him … mate's scent near … NEED … OTHER HALF! _"Not possible…" he continued to mumble as memories flashed and stabbed.

Sarah laid a hand on his knee. "What's not possible?"

Bloody and frazzled from his earlier exploits, his head snapped up with bloodshot, dilated eyes; Sarah flinched. He spoke in a low, trembling voice, "I'm not a berserker."

"W—"

"While the fey are subject to extreme bloodlust during battle, it's inherent to our nature; this is …" his eyes darted left then right, "I've never lost control to such an extent." He bored into her again, begging her to understand. "I've never blacked out before."

"Well, Sam did knock you out," Sarah said with a forced laugh. Lunging, he grabbed her wrist, pinching until she cringed. "Jareth …" She tugged but his grip was steadfast.

"Before that, I've never … it's never," he swallowed, "I don't understand what's happening to me."

Sarah pried his fingers from her wrist, the skin blanched in the pattern of his hand. But instead of flinging it away or simply letting go, she held on and settling his hand in her lap as she sat cross-legged. After a few seconds of lightly stroking his skin, she spoke, keeping her face down. "You were right."

Involuntarily, his hand twitched. His skin felt tight beneath the dried blood, as if too much of him were smashed into too little, but her touch soothed him, somehow gave him odd comfort. He watched her caress his lax hand, his heart calming, waiting for her to explain her statement.

"When you said I had secrets."

"Ah." He nodded.

"After The Shove, when Toby and I were on our own," she frowned, "after everyone died." A pang spasmed in his chest; was there truly no one left for them, then? How long did his subjects linger at her side?

_The traitors were likely loyal to the end for her, _he thought bitterly.

And what of her parents? So much tragedy for one so young …

"_Perhaps she has been punished enough."_

_Hmm … perhaps, Da, _Jareth answered, his vitriol severed so quickly he hardly remembered why it ever existed. For now, there was only him and her and their hands touching.

"There was …" She took a deep breath, seemed to shake herself. "Vultures attacked us one night," she said in a stronger voice, finally looking at him, daring him to understand. All too well did he read between the thin information she gave. Few things were so consistently done to girls during anarchy other than violation; it was not a difficult assumption.

"How old were you?" he asked softly, his fingers moving gently against hers.

"Sixteen."

"So very young."

"Yes."

"They … did things?" _Kill … MAIM … __**DESTROY! **_He struggled to shed himself of the bloodlust, tried putting all his energy into listening. Time enough for vengeance; if indeed, he truly wanted it. Why would he?

"Y-yes." Moisture collected, made the green of her irises shimmer; he resisted a tug to wipe them away.

His hand stilled. "How you must hate me," he said, head slipping down, then adding snidely as he dragged his hand away, "And now with just cause."

"No." She reached for him. "It's not like that."

"Oh? How is it like? Please enlighten me, for I am curious how you could feel any sympathy for me!"

"Jareth." She scooted closer once he tried moving away. "You didn't know what you were doing. It wasn't your fault."

His severe laugh exposed his pain; he sneered. "_Really_? And what makes Fixer suddenly so forgiving of her villainous Goblin King?"

"When you did that, I saw the look in your eyes. I heard what you said and," her hands trembled as she touched his face, "it felt …"

Jareth grabbed her hand and pressed it to his cheek, closing his eyes. "I'm sorry I frightened you. I swear I'll do my best to control it from now on."

"I wasn't frightened." His eyes opened and he arched a brow until she relented with a tremulous curl to her lips. "Okay, a little, but there was … something … I can't explain it." She shrugged. "I've never felt anything like it."

"Nor I." He returned a hesitant smile. "What I can remember, at least."

She gently pulled her hand free and sat back. "You swear you won't attack me?"

Moving his hand to his heart, he bowed his head, his hair swished forward. "On my life." _As short as it will likely be, _he added privately.

She extended her right hand and Jareth quickly met it with his. "Maybe we can be friends after all," she said.

"You no longer believe I caused The Shove?"

"I don't know what to think, but I believe that whatever happened, it took more than one person to destroy the world."

"Hmm … then perhaps it will take more than one person to repair it?" he asked as they tentatively shook hands.

"Yeah, maybe something like an "other half"?" Sarah's smile shone brighter than the ruptured sun. Every centimeter of her palm scorched his; time slowed, their hands moving up and down sluggishly.

_Need … NEED … __**NEED… **_pounded in his head; a wave of heat and pressure flowed up from his groin. Jareth's mouth dried as his cock stirred and hardened so taut he grew dizzy. He yanked his hand back, body shaking as he shuffled away on his hunches and muttered:

"Something like."

"Jareth?"

Keeping his back to her, he held his tongue, fighting down the lust boiling his blood and hormones. "Need quiet," he said. "Head hurts." Hunching further in on himself, he made his body a tight ball, hoping Sarah would leave before his urges got the better of him.

"Um … okay. I'll just find Sam and see if we're ready to go."

"Fine."

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The sun baked overhead in the position of high noon: furious, harsh and blistering. Sarah walked directly behind Sam as they trudged from the row of dilapidated homes; Chet followed her while Jareth brought up the rear. Since their private chat, he refused to speak to her or even look very long. She supposed she should feel happy he was ignoring her. She did hate him.

_I used to hate him. _She snuck a peek over her shoulder; he walked with his head down, torso slumped. _Now I feel … well I know I don't hate him. But I should at least be mad at him for delaying us, right? Good, it's settled. I'm officially mad at him. _

So why didn't she feel mad? In fact, whenever she saw him or thought about him or what happened or especially what he said, she felt … a weird fluttering in her gut, like what her step-mom used to call butterflies when she was nervous. But what did she have to be nervous about? It was just Jareth, the excruciatingly annoying Goblin King ruining her life as usual.

Except … he hadn't ruined her life, had he?

And now he was trekking cross-country with them through the No-Where, risking his hide (and apparently his sanity) to save Toby. And he had yet to learn about Toby's … condition. Would it matter? Would Jareth be angry with her once he discovered what Toby really was?

She refused to call Toby an Empty. He wasn't like all the others roaming the No-Where. He was different; he had to be, and maybe someday she'd be able to fix him like she fixed everything else.

_Like you Un-Fixed him? _

_Don't say that! It wasn't my fault! I didn't mean to hurt him!_

_But you did it all the same._

_On accident! I was protecting us!_

_Yourself, you mean._

_NO! Who knows what they would've done to him._

_Stop lying to yourself, Sarah._

_Don't call me that! My name is Fixer. _

"Fixer?"

"Huh?" She jerked, Sam gripped her shoulder. When had they stopped walking? The sun had sunk halfway to the horizon and nothing surrounded them but dust and hazy hints of the distant mountains. Chet and Jareth stood several feet away, their gazes averted.

"You were wandering off."

"Uh … sorry, must've, you know." She gave him a sheepish shrug and ducked her gaze.

"Yeah." He dropped his hand. "Anyway, Chet says he knows of a good well near here, but it'll take us off the Vultures' tracks."

"But what if we lose'em?" Panic laced her voice; her heart sped up. They couldn't risk it.

Chet jogged up, pack juggling side-to-side. Jareth kept his distance, observing. "It's only a few hours away and there's shelter in the foothills."

"And you're sure it's safe?" she asked.

"Last I checked, yeah. The last group that lived there died off a year back."

"What about the Vultures?" she asked. "What if the tracks are gone by the time we get back?"

Sam rubbed his chin. "I got a theory 'bout that. They've been heading in the same direction the last day and half, towards the Appalachians.

Her brows rose. "And?"

"I figure we can stock up on fresh water, circle back 'round to the southwest side of the foothills and pick up the trail again there."

"You agree with this, Chet?"

"Well …" Chet stared off towards the distant foothills in question. "It makes sense that they'd hideout there."

"Why?"

"First off, they're riddled with caves."

Sarah squinted; the low bumps were hazy in the glare. She knew they weren't as far away as they seemed. The sun and atmosphere had a way of altering perspective worse than a normal desert, at least that's what Sam told her years ago. She'd never seen a normal desert before The Shove. Though she knew how to track nearly as well as Sam, his skills still surpassed hers no matter what she'd claimed. If Sam said he could pick up the trail again, he could. And they needed water. But could Toby survive another delay?

"It's up to you, Fixer," Sam said. "It's your brother, so I'll do it however you want."

"Up to me, huh?" _So when we die of thirst, that's up to me too? The foothills must be at least another day or two away. _She huffed. _Damned if we do; damned if we don't. _One thing still niggled …

"Sam, I just don't get why they came all this way if they're hiding out in the hills now."

"What'da mean?"

"Just that, there's fresh water up there and caves like Chet said. Why risk the long hike to hit us, then end up taking Toby?"

Adjusting his pack, Chet hurumphed. "Maybe he was their real target all along."

Sam's mouth tightened. "Chet …"

Sarah looked back and forth between them. "What? Sam? You guys been talking?"

"It's not like that."

"Just tell her, man," Chet said.

"Tell me what?"

Sam shook his head and waved his hands. "Don't listen to him; he's talkin' out his ass."

"Chet?" she asked.

"Look, Fixer," Chet said, shuffling his feet, avoiding Sam's glare. "You know word's gotten 'round 'bout what you can do."

"Yeah."

"And the Vultures, they've tried to take us over in the past, our stuff, our place."

"Lots of death and trouble each time," she said, frowning.

"Yeah, well, maybe … word got out 'bout your kid brother too during one of those fights. They've gotten in before, maybe they found out 'bout him and, I don't know, decided to use him."

"Chet." Sarah sank to her hunches, cradling her head. "You're saying they deliberately killed so many just to kidnap Toby?"

Sam crouched next to her, laying an arm over her shoulders. "See why I didn't want him saying anything. I didn't want you upset. It's crazy!"

"Maybe not," she said. Sam's arm tensed on her back. "Maybe they've figured something out about Toby no else has," she said. "I never actually killed those Vultures years ago. Maybe they weren't as damaged as I thought. Maybe he isn't either," she added in a whisper.

"What Vultures?" Chet asked. "What'da talkin' 'bout?"

"Or perhaps," Jareth said, the addition of his voice shocked them, automatically changing Sarah's focus from Chet's uncomfortable question. "They plot to get you in the open." Sarah stood up, brushing Sam's arm off and approached Jareth.

"Why?" she asked. His countenance remained stoic but sparks flickered in his eyes for a moment as she drew close.

"I have no idea." He spread his arms wide, his voice rising to echo throughout the landscape. "But here we are, unprotected and virtually alone in this desolate place—three of the strongest members of your quaint little society and me."

"You think they planned this?" she asked, suddenly desperate to know his opinion.

A hollow laugh spewed forth from Jareth as he dropped his arms, head cocking, then he spoke in a low voice, almost tender as he stepped into her personal space and cupped her cheek with one hand. "It's exactly what I would do, if I were your enemy."

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><p><strong>Lily-beth-bell: <strong>Awesome! It's always great to hear your readers are excited to get updates! woohoo! Yeah, he's meant to be disturbing and thrilling, for himself as well. As you now know, he's not super happy about it either. Thanks!

**Mrs. Naara: **That's so cool! Goosebumps! Sweet! This chapter is a bit a nice slow down and UST with suspense.

**Angelwells: **Hmm, is Sam jealous of Jareth? Great question. I will say that Sam does have a secret. Thanks!

**Angelus Draco: **Thanks! LOL, yeah, it was fun having Sam pistol whip Jareth. But Jareth feels so bad about losing control, he's not really even mad about that. I think it's funny that you loved that.

**mynagoldenwings: **LOL! Surprise!

**janeaustenromantic: **I know I've read at least one other apocalyptic Laby fic before on FF but she never finished it, which was sad. :o( And yes, this is definitely J/S. My back is better but still iffy. Some days are good, some bad. I manage it with advanced core exercises, rest and heating pads. I try to keep my stress low and get plenty of sleep and stay hydrated, etc etc. It's now back to M rating. There will be lemons later on. Promise! I so stoked that you're finding this addictive and are loving the slow build up. I agree; this story wouldn't work written just for smut, but the later smut will be ... oh so good! You got that right!

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><p><strong>AN: ****This last chapter was mostly dialogue. I didn't set out to write it like that on purpose but once I got going it just worked. S and J need the dialogue and relationship change which I had been leading up to the last two chapters but it was never the right time to have part of the conversation. I loving how you guys are finding the slow build up and the overall story addictive. Me too! I'm neglecting my original fics to write this, lol! How funny is that? **

**Enjoy!  
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**Jinx  
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	17. Chapter 17

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In the end, Sarah decided allowing Chet to guide them to the well was worth the delay. They had chanced using some of their water to bathe and needed to replenish their supply otherwise they'd never last long enough to save Toby. Chet took the lead and veered off to the left with the three of them following, Jareth bringing up the rear again.

She resisted checking behind her every few minutes, knowing Jareth walked in a similar pace due to his thudding footfalls. He hadn't complained to Sam about being struck in the head and Sam hadn't apologized. But Jareth hadn't spoken more than five words to anyone since he gave his dramatic friends vs. enemies speech which had left her shaken, and convinced that the Vultures brewed more than kidnapping her brother. But what?

If Jareth hadn't shown such odd concern for her, she'd think him part of the plot. When he murmured those last words to her and caressed her face, his eyes boring into hers … there was a twist in her gut and a fluttering in her chest.

_He meant it. But now…_

She felt his withdrawal from them, from her, like a losing a hand you could sense but couldn't see or use. Jareth's presence pulsed at her periphery like that—a phantom limb—raw and tender but sort of healing. Why did she suddenly care? Two days ago she would've cheerfully exiled him to the No-Where, but now… She wondered if he felt as confused as she did. Maybe more, being far from home. A pang of what she knew used to feel like sympathy flipped-flopped her heart, and she remembered the other words he said to her.

"_Other half"—I wonder if he meant what I think he did. And if so, why does it feel … right? And why is he avoiding me now? I thought we agreed to be friends. Why does it matter?_

Her teeth caught her bottom lip, worrying it. Ever since THAT DAY years ago (which her mind always capitalized no matter how much she tried to diminished it) she'd had trouble forming normal relationships with people, specifically men. Sam was the only man she felt completely comfortable with, but he was more like a father or an older brother. Romantically, men weren't blips on her radar, not when most were either dangerous or useless. But Jareth…

The tang of her blood surprised her; she'd bitten through her lip. No one noticed while she wiped the dingy cuff of her sleeve over the small incision, then licked her tongue over the wound. _What is it about him that is so different from other men? Why do I feel like this around him? _

She hadn't lied earlier. Though it did frighten her, it also sparked sensations she'd never imagined existed. When he grabbed her, bound her to him and spoke in his gruff voice, it strummed a chord she hadn't known dwelled within her. It ran from the base of her throat to those same deep-clenching muscles her flashbacks triggered, but without the pain and fear, just tingling, liquid warmth. What did it mean?

_I wish Karen was here. She'd tell me what to do. _

Physically she might no longer be a virgin, but emotionally … well … The Shove didn't give teenagers time for proms and healthy maturation. Combined with THAT DAY, Sarah didn't exactly date or even bother viewing boys as anything but trouble. That went double for fey.

"Stupid Goblin Kings," she mumbled, not noticing Jareth's chin jerk up or his strained expression before he returned to staring at his boots kicking up the dust from their resolute strides.

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They approached what used to be a large farm house nestled against the edges of the foothills. Cautious, they spread out and moved in slow while alert for danger. Even with the majority of vegetation choked and cooked by the sun, leaving the land barren of easy camouflage, skeletal remains scattered about as potential cover and hiding places.

Empties rarely hid, wandering alone in the open until they dropped of exposure or starvation (another reason why the pack was so unusual – they weren't known for their social skills). Still, carelessness never ended well in the No-Where; usually it just ended with death or maiming, or maiming progressing into an agonizing death as an unwelcome highlight. Well, you get the idea. One had to be on guard at all times or _sqeeck! _

The three story house now possessed only lop-sided one and half stories. A large fissure ran near the foundation, and gaunt, weathered piles of what looked to be the other one and a half stories of the house lay in haphazard piles nearby. While Jareth guarded outside, Chet, Sam and Sarah performed a quick but thorough search of the residence, clearing it of danger. Few objects of usefulness remained and no people, at least, no one alive. The bodies were old and dissected, having been there for months.

Gathering in the front yard, Sarah held her weapon with its butt resting on her hip, muzzle in the air. "I don't know, Chet. Those people didn't look like they died peacefully."

"I never said they did."

She gave him a sharp glare. "What happened here?"

Chet pointed to the fissure splitting the ground, threatening the last of the house clawing at the ground. "That happened …'bout a year back."

"The quake," Sam muttered.

"Yep, the quake. We got through it clean enough but they didn't."

Toeing the edge of the yawning stripe, Jareth's booth knocked clods of dry dirt into it. "The ground is unstable as well?" he asked as he leaned over, watching the chunks spiral down to the absorbing pitch.

"Everything's unstable," Sam said. "Or haven't you figured that out by now?"

Jareth turned; the three stood in a horseshoe several feet away, awaiting his response. "Well, I have now."

Sarah stepped forward, reaching out, her weapon slipping to her side. "Don't stand so close to that thing; you're making me nervous."

"Afraid I might fall in?" Jareth smirked and shuffled one toe closer.

"Afraid I might be tempted to push you," she said, grabbing his upper sleeve and yanking him away. "Come on, let's get to the well."

"It's 'round back," Chet said, leading the way. Sarah and Jareth walked side-by-side while Sam trailed behind this time. No one spoke, instead keeping their attention for any unexpected danger while the old fashioned well came into sight.

"Crap," Chet tugged on the slack metal cable, metal wheels squeaked in broken, rusty protest, "the pulley system is busted." He leaned over the stone edge. "The bucket is still down there and I don't think it's coming back up."

"Fixer?" Sam gave her his usual look of expectation. They'd danced this two-step so long neither needed conversation; Chet stepped back, understanding, while Jareth furrowed his brows as Sarah moved from his side.

With a heavy sigh, Sarah slipped her rucksack and M-16 off her shoulders and laid them on the ground, leaning them against the well. Grayish-yellow dust puffed up around the edges of her olive drab bag, speckling the fabric. Her weapon escaped most of the dust by being taller and leaner, but the end of the black metal and plastic were lightly dulled.

Sam eyed the antique contraption, stretching to fiddle with the damaged pieces. "Simple fix, right?"

Sarah reached up, trailing her fingertips along the crusty metal wheel. "Sure, it's just mech."

"What are you doing?" Jareth asked, approaching Sarah's opposite side.

"Remember when I said I could fix things?"

"Yes." A grim smile twisted her lips, sending a strange bolt of dread through Jareth. "You don't enjoy the ability?"

"Enjoy isn't quite the word I would use," she said, rolling her eyes. "It's … painful sometimes."

"Then why do you do it?" Their hands were flat on the well's edge. His smallest finger touched hers while he studied the inside of the dank hole. Neither heard Sam move away.

She shrugged and her smile turned wry. "Who else is going help?" Her finger didn't shrink away but neither did it curl around his. Jareth wasn't sure how he felt about either result, but tingles surged over his hand while confusion muddled his thoughts.

"Does it harm you?" he asked, his finger involuntarily twitching.

She turned, facing him, taking away her lovely finger and crossed her arms, robbing him of the minute contact. "Other than discomfort, no." Then she laughed and it grated. "Suddenly worried about me, Goblin King?"

Taking quick steps back, Jareth glowered at her mocking tone and jutted his chin. "Don't be ridiculous." He waved one hand at her imperiously. "Well? Get on with it." He didn't notice how her eyes flashed for a moment before her smile thinned and her face drooped slightly.

"Of course, Your Majesty," she said, rubbing her palms together like so many hack stage magicians before The Shove.

"It's about time," Chet mumbled, then yelped when Sam nudged him in the side. Sarah gave them both an evil glare while Jareth arch a brow.

"Can it."

"What?" Chet whined, nursing his sore ribs.

"Just leave her alone, alright?"

"Yeah," Chet grabbed his bag and stomped away, "whatever."

**.**

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She never liked this part, warming objects up, which was way she made sure to keep things in working order so she didn't have to fix from a dead state, easier that way. With her hands limber from the quick friction, Sarah took the rusted, broken pulley system in hand, reaching up to brush her fingertips along its surface.

The barest touch was all she needed to _feel _what was wrong with something. Even though most of this was visible, she still needed to feel its structure in order to know how to fix it. Closing her eyes, she allowed the pulley to merge with her skin, its essence mixing with hers. She didn't know how it worked or how she did it, only that once she'd accidentally fixed things years ago (after she'd un-fixed the Vultures) it got easier the more she concentrated.

The world fell from her as she became the pulley and it became her. She understood how it felt to be rusted iron, being eating by the elements an atom at a time. Corroding, converting, flaking, she felt her surface drying and the wind taking it, shrinking her, corrupting her until she could no longer serve her purpose, hanging useless and forlorn.

_REVERSE … REPAIR … HEAL … _

The command pulsed from a deep place inside of her, flaring through her arm to the pulley. The metal warmed and the rough, metal paper softened pulling back to itself, smoothing and bonding. Sarah felt it knitting into its original form, oxygen flying back into the atmosphere where it could sustain or damage as it chose. Then the warmth strengthened into heat, blazing, scorching back up her arms. Eating, chewing, grinding at her flesh …

Someone pulled her away, her hands pried from the metal, melted skin stringing like cheese.

Eyes open, mouth agape, Sarah screamed.

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For many long minutes, Jareth watched Sarah stretch up and grasp the pulley and do … nothing. Without his magic, he didn't even feel her fixing this object. _Assuming it's working. _Time marched; she didn't move and still no sense of magic or indication of improvement.

Finally he turned to Sam. "How long does this usually require?"

Sam was already scratching his chin. "Hmm, not this long ,'specially not for something simple."

Chet walked up behind them, huffing in annoyance. "She's not done yet?"

"We were just wonderin' the same thing," Sam said over his shoulder. "I mean—hey Jareth, I wouldn't walk," Sam grabbed his shoulder, "OW!" then yanked his hand back, waving it back and forth in pain. "What the hell?"

Jareth felt heat enveloped him, hotter than the No-Where; it sent his mind to distant places. No escaping it, he decided to deal with it directly, this source hammering him until only he and it existed. Only a few feet separated them now, he could reach out and touch the irritant stripping him. Rid himself of this discomfort, this imbalance.

"Stop," he commanded, not understanding, only forcing. His fingers clawed into something soft covering something firmer and he pulled it toward his chest until the weight of a person knocked him backward and they fell and a woman screamed and he woke.

"Sarah? _Sarah!" _

She laid atop him, unconscious, her palms reddened with skin blistering along her fingers. Jareth cringed with pained sympathy as her hands shook and curled inward reflexively. They weren't blackened or bloody though; he knew enough of healing to be grateful for that. Sam and Chet ran to them, helped him ease her to the ground as he slipped out from under her.

"What happened?" Sam asked, digging in his bag and withdrawing a roll of white bandages and a tube.

"I-I don't know." Jareth cradled her head in his lap, hands repeatedly smoothing her crinkled brow and gently combing her hairline. "Has this ever happened before?" Sam and Chet both glared at him with looks of—are you nuts? "I see," Jareth added in an embarrassed mumble.

"How'd you know to pull her away?" Chet asked. He held Sarah's hands still while Sam spread some clear goop over her palms, then spiraled the bandages around them.

"I didn't." Their work paused as they looked at him. Jareth ducked his head, uncertain how to answer and hating the feeling. "I didn't even realize what I was doing, only that something was … unbalanced and I had to stop it."

Sam resumed working. "O-kay, then."

"You don't believe me?"

"It's not that," Sam said, shaking his head. "I just don't know what to think." Jareth gave him a sharp, questioning look. Sam sighed, finishing the first aid with Chet and laying Sarah's hands on her torso. She didn't wake.

"Look, Jareth." Sam sat back on his haunches. "Ever since you got here, things have been going cross-eyed with Fixer."

Gritting his teeth on a retort, Jareth schooled his expression to blandness. "I mean her no harm."

"I believe that! I'm the one who wanted you to stay. Hell, you just saved her." Sam pointed to Sarah. "But she's never needed saving before, not when she's fixing."

Jareth strived to regain his regal tone, while his fingers continued stroke her hair. "Your point?"

Sam stood and paced, a frown twisting his mouth as he rubbed his face. Chet and Jareth watched him circle for several seconds, creating a large dust cloud, before he stopped, his mouth dropping open. But instead of answering Jareth's question, Sam paused, his eyes going to the pulley still dangling above and behind them.

"Oh, fuck…" his shoulders slumped, "it didn't work."

Chet jumped up and spun. "It didn't what? Sonna-bitch!" He threw his weapon and rucksack to the ground, kicking the dirt over both. "We're fucked! Fucked!"

Keeping Sarah's head in his lap, Jareth glanced up and around until he comprehended the problem. The pulley, it remained broken as if Sarah never attempted to fix it. He closed his eyes, hands fisting lightly in her surprisingly soft hair and listened to the men's ranting as he contemplated their circumstances.

_We have no replacement water. _

._  
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><p><strong>mynagoldenwings: <strong>Thanks! Glad you like! It's really getting good now, huh? This is more of a slow burn fic.

**Angelwells: **Thanks, yep they're getting closer. And things are getting more tense in the group as their journey leads them ... somewhere into the mountains.

**BuffyMyraRae: **Girl, like I've said. You always know exactly how to compliment a writer. *blushes* To any of my writing compared to published fics is a huge compliment, but to have my fanfic is even better. But you know I try to make every story interesting, not just a throw away. I love creating characters and stories with depth and gray areas and reasons to love and hate. That's what pulls readers in. It's what makes it interesting for me. Otherwise, why write or read?

**janeaustenromantic: **Thank you! I though it work well too. A nice balance of wham then aww... And he is embarrassed and sorry and hates being vulnerable. Especially to her whom he hated so recently. S did see some vulnerability but also she felt attraction which is new for her (because of her past) So that overcame her fear. They are connected for many reasons which is slowly becoming clear to them the same time as it is to the reader. Thanks!

**Lily-beth-blue: **I agreed about the dialogue. I usually don't write full chapters of mostly dialogue but if the story calls for it, there it is. And they really needed the talk and I had delayed it longer than I wanted given the circumstances. But sooner and I think they would've been too hostile. This felt right. It allowed them to be more honest and vulnerable with each other without being too mushy either. I felt the same way. Why would be too livid. He has no claim to her, doesn't even like her right now. But the bloodlust is sparking feelings that are being pulling into new directions. So he's sympathetic and appropriately angry as a honorable male and one who is beginning to feel something for her but is still very confused and conflicted himself.

**Luc: **Thanks! I'm feeling very good about too!

**Angelus Draco: **Oh yes, and things are about to speed up a bit now that circumstances have become a bit more dire. :o)

**Lady Augustin: **LOL as I pm'ed you... you are an insightful reader but you don't as yet know why. As for fey becoming lusty near their intended. Nope. If that were the case then Jareth would expect that and figure it out and hate it because it's Sarah. No, it has to do with their bond. That would fix him. :o)

**J Luc Picard: **LOL! OMG! What a great way of putting it. Sort of true, except Sarah and Jareth are still rather clueless. They still in denial but are starting to come around to the idea. As for Sam and Chet ... well, I guess we'll have to see.

**FeyFaerie: **We chatted quite a bit and I'm glad you caught Toby's age error. My bad. As you know, I've already fixed that. I started this during NaNo last Nov. and obviously forgot a few details between then and now. Still so glad you decided to take a chance on it! And to clear it up for anyone else reading - Sarah fried the rapists brains not Toby, and accidentally fried Toby's too.

**Autumn O'Shea Swan: **It is awkward for him and you're spotting some clues too hmmm... More fun to be had very soon!

**Bananorama:** In that case I won't worry if I spell it wrong or not. LOL! Awesome, extra impatient is just how I like my readers, muhahahahaha! Is Sam jealous? I will tell you that Sam does have a secret as Lady Augustin guessed. And we will find out what it is sometime in the next 2-4 chapters I think. Depends on how it paces out. I don't use outlines. I write straight from my head to computer.

**Joie Cullen: **Yep, but then, if they had magic they wouldn't be in this mess. More drama ensues!

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><p><strong>AN: Things are getting good aren't they? Between my original "Dreams of the Queen" on fiction press and this here and keep flipping back and forth writing both since they're both at critical, exciting climaxes. Well, this one is still building a bit, but it's getting closer to a big reveal which is just as exciting for me.**

**So FF posted today about the ratings warnings... argh. Rumor is they might be policing things for real. And if stories and/or authors are violating rules (which are all my M rated stories) shrugs then those stories will be removed and/or the author might be banned. So... in case that happens, just want everyone to know I'm also on adultfanfiction dot net and deviantart dot com as jinx1764 and my pen name when I publish my original work (and I have 5 stories in various stages which I intend to self pub them all) My pen name will be H. G. Mewis on Amazon and Smashwords which gets me into Barnes and Noble and Sony/apple ereaders. Just wanted to let y'all know this in case anything happened and you wanted to find me in the future.  
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**Happy Reading!  
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**Jinx  
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	18. Chapter 18

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><p><strong>Chapter 18<strong>

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"God, I wish I had a bolt cutter," Chet said, gazing at the cable running through the broken, still rusted pulley.

"Ah, Chet," Jareth said, keeping his head bowed over Sarah, who lay in his lap, motionless under his calming ministrations. She rested peacefully for the present while Sam searched the area, considering their next move. Jareth dared not wake her until needed, knowing she would feel tremendous pain. "A week ago I could've granted your wish."

Startled, Chet crouched next to him. "Seriously?"

Jareth returned a taut half smile, saying in a mocking tone, "Seriously." He shrugged. "However, if I still had my magic we could skip this ridiculous tediousness while I recovered Tobias directly."

"So Fixer was right about you," Jareth's arch brow and sped Chet on, "I mean about the magic and stuff."

"Stuff?"

"Granting wishes."

"I'd hardly say I grant wishes." Jareth scoffed. "I'm no bottled jinn. Though I hear they're quite useful if you're clever enough to master one."

"Jinn?" Chet scooted closer, head tilted, hands dangling between his hunched legs. "You mean like a genie?"

"Precisely."

"Yeah, having a genie right now would be useful."

"Mm …" Jareth nodded, his fingers gently combing tangles from Sarah's hair. He didn't really understand why he continued to caress her, but some part of him acknowledged how easy it was to do. "I would rather answers to my quickly multiplying questions," he mumbled.

"What kinda questions?"

"Wh-? Oh." He frowned, hands stilling over Sarah's forehead. "You're still here?"

"Where else would I be?"

Jareth curled his lips in a sneer. "Perhaps searching the property with Sam? Solving our water retrieval problem?"

"Oh man," Chet shook his head, oblivious to Jareth's sarcasm, "you have any idea how much that cable weights? And that's not including the filled bucket. He's lookin' for something we can drive into the ground, something that'll support the weight and that's assuming the three of us," Chet hand-waved from him to Jareth, then outward to Sam's whereabouts, "can even lift the damn thing multiple times." His head shook again, chin hanging down. "I just don't think it's gonna happen."

Jareth's hand stilled; Sarah moaned and stirred restlessly. "What are you saying?"

"Look." Chet scratched the back of his neck, then his two-day's worth of stubble. "This isn't gonna work."

"This being?" Jareth didn't like where Chet led, yet his logic couldn't disagree.

"This chasing after the Vultures," he said earnestly, his voice rising a bit. Chet didn't notice Jareth's eyes flick upward.

"Don't you fucking say that!" Sam shouted, grabbing Chet from behind and yanking him up and back. Chet sprawled on his butt and back in a large puff of dust, before scrambling to his feet into a fighting stance.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" Chet shouted back.

Sam took a mirrored fighting stance, teeth bared. "We are _not_ giving up!"

"Really? Well I don't see anything useful or problem-solving in your hands!"

At Chet's accusation, Jareth eyed Sam closer, discovering Chet to be correct. Sam carried nothing new or large enough to be used as the type of weight-supporting post Chet described. He disliked agreeing with the man, but Chet seemed to be right.

Sam didn't share Jareth's viewpoint. "Just 'cause this place is picked over doesn't mean we give up! We haven't even tried to lift the thing yet." He pointed at the well.

"Are you nuts? How we gonna support the weight and keep the cable secure with only three of us?" Sam opened his mouth; Chet pointed a finger. "And don't you say nothing 'bout Fixer." Sam snapped his mouth shut with a loud click. "She's out for now and you know it. Her hands are tore up bad."

Sam scowled. "Even so, she wouldn't give up."

"Fixer is unconscious!" Chet pointed to where she lay in Jareth's lap. Meanwhile, Jareth continued to observe this volatile display with a growing alarm. Something niggled at his gut, but without knowing either of the men well, he couldn't get a clear impression. But he didn't like it.

Bunching Chet's jacket in his fists, Sam pulled him up short. "Fixer would agree with me. It's her brother."

"Fuck!" He jerked from Sam's grip, stumbling. "Without water we'll barely make to the mountains!" Chet paced, kicking up more dirt and waving his arms.

"But we _can _make it!" Sam said with a fist smacking to palm. "It's a day or so from here."

"And if we don't find fresh water there? Then what?"

Glancing to Jareth, whose hands were motionless causing Sarah to become more restless, Sam ducked his head. "I don't know."

"You _don't_ know?" Chet echoed snidely, mocking him with his entire body. He faced Jareth. "He doesn't fucking know! Well I do! We die, that's wha-!"

"Sam," Jareth said in a commanding voice, cutting Chet off mid-rant. Both men's heads whipped around, facing him. Though Jareth looked up from his sitting position, his decades of royal experience easily ruled the situation, cooling tempers and deescalating tension. "It seems to me you're quite determined to follow these Vultures regardless of the risk."

Sam sighed and spoke in a calmer voice, "I'm just choosing what Fixer would've decided. You know I'm right."

Jareth's hand hovered over her hair, tempted to start combing again as he considered Sam's opinion. The Sarah he knew—stubborn, determined, loyal—she wouldn't give up. But this maze of life and death offered worse odds than his Labyrinth, which was merely a challenge to usher children into maturity. He looked down at her lips, squeezed tight, and her eyes shifting rapidly beneath their lids. Could she hear them? Did she try to wake and answer for herself?

Resting a hand on the crown of her head, he realized a vital difference between the woman of his memory and the one in his arms. This Sarah, while as stout of heart and as annoying as ever, was not the Sarah he remembered. She was so much more. This Sarah would face the life-threatening chances to retrieve her brother just as she had faced his lesser, childish challenges. And whatever fate had planned, he decided then and there, he would stand by her side until they found the answers to both their questions.

"Very well, Sam." He nodded slowly as he adjusted the unconscious Sarah, shifting until he could slip one arm beneath her neck and the other under her knees. Standing, he hefted her close to his chest and met Sam's wide-eyed gaze. Was he astonished or relieved? Uncertain, Jareth disregarded it, focusing on Sarah instead. Her weight felt slight in his arms, lighter than he expected given her physical strength, and another of those twisting pangs hit his heart as her hands curled onto her chest, settling within their white mittens.

"We push on." Jareth rotated his head toward his and Sarah's things. "Carry our bags, then. I'll carry her." And he strode off toward the mountains, not caring if Sam or Chet followed, though he knew they would. What choice did they have?

**.**

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She woke gradually to the stinging burn of her hands and the comforting sway of being held and carried. The last time she remembered feeling so safe and comfortable—if she deliberately ignored her hands' increasing pain—was years before The Shove. On Saturday mornings, before Karen forced her up, she would snuggle deep under her blankets with Lancelot tucked next to her. Her bed became a toasty cocoon, securely holding back the harsh reality of her life.

As consciousness continued to trickle around cracks, prying them wider, Sarah resisted the growing urge to open her eyes. If she gave in, her delicious throw-back fantasy would end, and she'd have to admit whose arms held her so well. Instead she breathed, enjoying his singular aroma of spicy musk, which even the most arduous of exertions never quite masked. Perhaps, while lost to the world of dreams, she might press her nose closer, surreptitiously inhaling his scent guilt-free.

"Enjoying yourself?" His question rumbled from his chest to hers; the bass soothing even as it startled her.

She cracked her gummy eyes, peeking up, felt her skin prickle as she blushed. "You knew?"

"Your sniffing was rather obvious." His half smirk crinkled the skin around his eyes, mocking her, but in a light-hearted, jovial way.

She realized with a stomach, rolling jolt—Jareth teased her. And even worse, she liked it. Against her will and better sense, a return smile tugged until she felt her lips stretch and cheeks mash upward. _What's he doing to me? _Even her hands didn't hurt so much as long as he kept looking at her with that half smile and sparkling, mismatched eyes.

"Sorry," she mumbled, not at all truly meaning it.

"It's alright. Your sniffing is infinitely preferable to your sniping."

She stiffened slightly. "I don't snipe!" Ignoring her, Jareth raised his head toward their destination, his lips blanching and twisting as he fought a wider grin. Accepting the change of topic, she craned around for a better view and asked in a grumble, "Where are we? And why are you carrying me?" She felt his chest expand, preceding his heavy sigh. _So much for pleasant conversation._

"We are several hours closer to the mountains, and I'm carrying you because it seemed the most expedient choice at the time," he spared her a wry glance, "given your state of unconsciousness."

She rotated her white-mittened hands, the sting doubling as soon as she looked. "Unconscious? The pulley? Did I fix it?"

"No."

_No? What went wrong? _Oppressive heat mixed with images of melting cheese for a moment, then Sarah threw the memories away and focused on the current problem. "So … how'd we get the water?"

Jareth waited a few breaths, his long-legged pace rocking her while her anxiety increased. "We didn't."

"What?" She shifted, trying to sit up, but Jareth tightened his hold and glared until she relaxed.

"Sam felt you would choose to proceed regardless of the risk."

"He did?"

"Was he mistaken?"  
>"I—." Sarah slumped and Jareth pulled her closer to his chest. She allowed herself the indulgence while she thought about Jareth's explanation. <em>Was Sam wrong?<em> The mountains were a good distance, and they needed the water. But they might be able to make it, if they moved fasted and rationed what they had left. No, Sam wasn't wrong.

"I can tell by the disappearing crease between your brows that you've reach a conclusion."

She met his intent, downward gaze. Keeping resolute, she overlooked how his long hair framed his face, dangling toward her in a flattering sweep of platinum. "I have to save Toby."

Pursing his lips, Jareth nodded slowly. "I understand."

"Do you?"

"Remember, I swore to get him back."

"I remember," she said softly, tucking her hands back to her chest as she burrowed closer to his. "Are you tired, Jareth?"

"Rest, Sarah." His fingers dug lightly into her body through her clothes, his eyes determinedly staring straight ahead. "I may be without my magic, but my stamina remains greater than a human's."

She yawned, suddenly tired in the combined day's heat and Jareth's warmth. "Okay."

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Sam wasn't sure what to think of the fey striding along in front of him as if he owned caffeine on tap. Jareth had carried Sarah for hours with only a few breaks. He had turned down both he and Chet's offers to trade out his burden with a feral-like frown. When Sam had insisted, he expected a growl with Jareth's vaguely sharpened teeth. The man had to exhaust himself eventually, right? Man. Sam used the term so casually, but the more he got to know Jareth, the more he understood him to be no man. At least, not in the human sense of the word.

Odd thing was, Sam didn't hear Sarah complaining, and he knew she had regained consciousness because they chatted off and on in hushed tones. He didn't know how to feel about that. Oh, he was glad she was awake and feeling better. Of course he was. He supposed he should feel happy she warmed up to Jareth. After all, he had claimed to be here to help, possibly even heal the world. But now that Sarah changed her mind and apparently buddied up to him … well … something about it tweaked Sam. Not that he had any right to the feeling.

He thought about the Vultures and Toby and Sarah's harebrained scheme they were currently being tortured by. He thought about all his plans for the compound that were, as of all this, wasted. How easily he tossed the future aside. For what? Family?

Gritting his teeth on the painful feelings welling up in his throat, Sam kept his sight on the mountains. The foothills sloped beneath their feet and soon the trek would steepen. Too bad there weren't hardly any trees left in the lower altitudes. Sam hitched his rucksack higher on his shoulders and readjusted Sarah's pack in his left hand, her weapon in his right.

No, he didn't have any right to the feeling at all.

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><p><strong>Hachimanskitsune: <strong>Thanks! I've been wanting to get into Sarah's 'fixing' ability. There's more to it though. She sort of needs fixing. **  
><strong>

**Lily-beth-bluebell: **Thanks! So glad you noticed how I adapt the writing from funny to serious to sarcastic. That's all deliberate. Serious. As I'm writing, I'll decided to go in a certain direction or not, then switch my character POV or my narrative voice to fit the situation. It's taken me years to be able to do that at will. Do worry! You'll see Sarah 'fix' something. This was an important step between her and Jareth. I'll be updating this on all three sites - FF, AFF and DA. I've still got to catch it up on my blog.

**Angelwells: **Thanks! Always great to hear about the love!

**Autumn O'Shea Swan: **There's def. something going on with Sarah which will be explained, rather soon too.

**mynagoldenwings: **I agree. But then, it's their site and they can do what they want. Thanks so much! Have you? Gonna write some fanfic for my fanfic? That would be so awesome!

**Lady Augustin: **Thanks and I'll tell you. Her powers didn't work NOT because she destroyed the last bit of magic (the rock). LOL, Jareth a butthead. Yeah, but Sarah's being a butthead too. They both need to catch a clue.

**janeaustenromantic: **No, her trouble fixing was NOT related to the trap. Is there a trap? Muhahahaha! Yeah, the site police are a drag but so far so good for me. I figure I'm going to keep updating and keep my fics here until I'm told I can't. Maybe it's all panic mode.

**buffy: **LOL! You're correct! I don't write gibberish. But he was out of his head when he said they 'mine' and 'other half' soooo... what does it mean? They're going to be finding out a bit more soon. The next few chapters are about to get really interesting.

**Davidbowie'spants: **Hey! Hope you had a great vacation! I'm getting ready for one in a few days myself. LOL! Yes, they are falling (hence one facet of the title) Thanks! Glad you're enjoying it! No prob, just good to hear from you.

**Vampiyaa: **Okaaayayayaaa! Here ya go!

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><p><strong>AN: I plan on updating here as long as they allow me to. I haven't had any contact from any admins or such, so as far as I'm concerned, I'm going to keep my fics as they are on FF until told otherwise. So there. I do have all my adult fics on Adult fan fiction dot com and a few on deivant art (jinx1764) on both and there's my blog which I'm slowly updating - jinxedfiction dot blogspot dot com (which may eventually be moved to wordpress under the same name cause their templates are way cooler) I had that blog before and restarted it. I meant to used it as an author hub for my original work, so now it'll do double duty. **

**Thanks to everyone who'd messaged and followed me on the other sites! What an awesome turn out! And a special thanks to those who've decided to read and follow my original work before and because of this shift! I've had an uptic on my original work with several amazing reviews. The next chapter of 'Dreams of the Queen' should be out soon and that fic is almost finished after a years- whew! I've even had someone ask me if they could turn it into a screenplay because they think it would be a great movie. (not that it's had any offers, but like she said. First you have to have the screenplay.) Fine by me! I hate reading/writing screenplays, bleech!**

**I won't be putting any lemons in this fic on this site. But there will be lemons in it on AFF and DA and my blog it I ever get it updated. Just trying to be safe.  
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**Enjoy! And as always, you know I love to hear concern, opinions, comments, etc!  
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**Jinx  
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	19. Chapter 19

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><p><strong>Chapter 19<strong>

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He plodded along, powered by momentum and an overwhelming desire to succeed. Numb from the waist down, Jareth suspected only unconsciousness would cease his legs; and while the heat had sapped his stamina faster than expected, he knew more strength remained untapped before his complete collapse. That thought both emboldened and terrified him. How long might he carry Sarah through the pounding heat and desolation before they both ended?

_It doesn't matter. I'll walk until the world crumbles, _he thought with teeth clenched so tight his jaw ached.

The setting sun brought the expected chill, relieving the draining boil of the day, and Sarah shivered in his arms, the cold affecting her faster than him. Injured, she continued to be claimed by sleep more often than not, and Jareth tried not to sigh too loudly at the heat's breaking, remembering the icy temperatures awaiting them at full dark.

The relief would be short-lived with his clothing soaked by sweat not yet evaporated, and as expected, it didn't take long for his body to cool as he trudged up the sharply sloping ground. His legs complained and cramped with each step. He held Sarah closer to his chest for both their sake's; any warmth retained might add minutes to their survival.

Through chattering teeth, Jareth asked Chet, "How much farther?"

"We're in the foothills," he said from Jareth's left. "If we keep moving, we should find shelter before dark."

"There's a small cave at the base of the mountains," Sam said from behind them.

Chet's head pivoted rapidly around while they walked. "How do you know that?"

"I've used it before."

"When?"

"Years ago." Sam's shrug was weighted with the extra bags, but still obvious. "Before you arrived at the compound."

"You've never talked 'bout it."

"So what. I've never told you my underwear size either."

Chet flushed; squeezing his lips so tight, they blanched and twitched. Giving Sam a slanted glare, he fish-gawked as if he wanted to say something more, but the words failed to arrive. Sam kept his head hung toward to the ground, shuffling with determined ignorance. Only their ponderous footfalls broke the oppressive air for several minutes.

_If I weren't so exhausted, _Jareth thought. _ I might care about their increasing arguments._

"_You just focus on getting your hide and hers somewhere safe, boy."_

_Yes, Da._

Sam's terse voice interrupted Jareth's musings. "Just keep heading uphill toward the sunset. There's a rocky overhang marking the cave."

Jareth nodded, hoping his superior vision caught sight of the landmark in the deepening gloom. With the steepening of the land, he honestly feared the end of his stamina, felt its approach in the shuddering of his legs. He had foregone taking much water, directing the majority of his portion to Sarah whenever she woke. Chet had argued with him, but Sam had stayed strangely silent on the issue. Jareth understood Sam and Sarah's closeness; hence Sam would always support her, so he'd expected Sam to have some opinion, was surprised when he didn't. Now, just after sunset and with Sarah's condition worsening, Jareth was glad he had sacrificed because Sarah had begun muttering in delusion, twisting and turning in his arms.

**.**

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Sarah wakened to find the four of them camped in a small cave, Jareth collapsed—but awake—next to her. Sam and Chet stopped unpacking when she cracked open her eyes with a shock of consciousness, the rocky ground digging harsh edges into her back and bottom. Jareth tracked her sudden movement, exhaustion rimming his eyes with enflamed scarlet. Deeper crow's feet than she remembered framed his features.

_Was it only a few hours ago that I last spoke with him?_ He lay on his side, one arm flaccidly pillowing his head. Parched and fissured, his lips were nearly bloody in tiny patches. She cringed, realizing how much he drained himself to spare her. Sitting up, discounting a short bout of dizziness, she asked him in a dry voice, "Are you okay?"

His smile stopped with a wince, then he nodded. "I'll live," he croaked. "For now."

_For now? _ She considered asking what he meant, but it seemed too complicated a subject given her own fatigue. Instead, she managed a shaky smile, and even that weakened her. She thought to ask for water before she remembered they were out. Jareth wouldn't be in terrible condition if they weren't, nor would he be delaying offering her any.

As they stared at each other, the sounds of Chet and Sam organizing camp receding, the stinging and itching of her hands started. Sarah demanded the removal of the bandages before she chewed them off. Neither Chet nor Sam wanted to comply, stating her burns needed protection, but Jareth agreed in a dehydrated, gritty voice with a vehement scowl at the two men. She didn't understand why he sided with her so strongly, but his support strummed that chord deep inside her gut again. And she shared a quiet look with Jareth as he pushed himself upright with a groan.

So here they sat—Jareth holding her tightly to his side with one arm, Chet unwrapping her hands and Sam hovering like a deranged mother hen, pacing and cursing. Sarah watched, her eyes jumping and jittery, as the dingy gauze lengthened, forming a soft pile in her lap with Chet's slow un-spiraling.

"Can't you hurry?" she asked. "They really hurt!" She wanted to gnaw at the itching, dig her teeth into the irritation until she chewed it away.

"I don't want to risk damaging them more," Chet said, pausing to ram home his point.

"It's fine. Just get it off!"

"Fixer, let him do it right," Sam snapped, arms as crossed as his expression.

Sarah scoffed and fidgeted, nearly pulling her hands free of Chet's ministrations. A squeeze on her shoulder brought her head around to Jareth's silent but effective scolding. His piercing gaze did far more to quell her impatience than anything from the other men.

Shoulders slumping under Jareth's arm, she pouted. "Fine." She nibbled on her lower lip before dropping her eyes from his quiet rebuke. _How does he do that? _So distracted by his influence, she almost missed Chet and Sam's twin gasps as cold air hit the tender skin of her hands.

"My God…" they said.

"What?" she asked, braving a peek. Her palms shone red and puckered, blotches of furious blisters threatening to break. She cautiously flexed and curled her fingers inward, scrunching and bunching her tender palms. The damaged skin stung, itched and pulled, but before she could think of how to relieve the pain, a pair of large sun-reddened hands covered hers.

Jareth's arms crisscrossed through hers from next to her. An awkward position made easier by his comforting presence; the side of his body added a warm, masculine weight against her. Sarah suppressed a sudden urge to sigh as leaned into him, his palms pressed to hers. Looking straight ahead, Jareth seemingly ignored her reaction.

After the first bite of pain, a tingle infused her hands, radiating up her arms before it spread to her entire body. It made her lightheaded and warm, and she felt she might detether from the ground and drift like a soap bubble—fragile and free. _How wonderful…_

Abruptly, the feeling ceased and she crashed. The warmth and floating yanked away like a bad magician pulling a tablecloth out from under fancy place settings, the accompanying smashes and clatters echoing throughout her body. But the pain and itching disappeared too, replaced by the sensation of normal skin. She slowly blinked once, twice, rotating her hands up and around after Jareth released his grip and pulled his arms from her. Bereft and arctic, her emotions swirled in confusion.

"How'd you do that?" she asked, pivoting in place toward him.

"I didn't," he said.

"Bullshit! We all saw you!" Chet and Sam's responses mixed together.

"No." One corner of Jareth's mouth curled down with his furrowed brow. "I mean ... I didn't do it alone."

Sarah clutched her hands together, holding them to her chest. She ignored Chet and Sam's exclamations of shock, their voices fading as she tunneled onto Jareth's earnest eyes. "You helped me fix myself?" she asked, tentative.

He cocked his head, hair fluttering over his shoulders and his mouth pursing. He nodded once, sharply. "Yes. I suppose so."

"How? I've never been able to heal people, especially myself." She leaned closer to him, the buzz of the other men's voices telescoping farther away behind her. Only she and Jareth existed in the dimness of the cave, the hardness of its ground.

"Sarah," he shrugged, "I don't understand what I did or how, only that I … it felt … right."

She smiled. "I did feel right, didn't it?" She reached out with one hand, healed, palm up. He accepted it, cupping it with one while running fingers lightly along the surface with the other, teasing, until she shivered. The new skin blossomed with brilliant perception, each faint brush of his fingertips sent jolts from her hand to that magnificent new chord low in her belly. The new frigidity vanished at his touch, her emotions returning in full force the longer he stroked her palm.

_How can this feel so good? He's barely touching me. _But it did and a faint smile curled as she allowed him to continue.

"I cannot believe this shit!" Chet said, breaking their illusionary privacy. Sarah and Jareth jerked their hands and bodies apart, blushing and ducking uncomfortably. Both looked anywhere but at one another. Neither noticed Chet walking to the cave's entrance.

"Chet, don't leave!" Sam said, yanking on his arm.

Chet pulled free. "We're out of water! They're busy cozying up after god knows what just happened!" Chet pointed at a red-faced Jareth and Sarah currently shifting even farther away from each other. "And you want to what? Sit here? Wait? For what?" Chet's arms flayed wildly.

"We need to rest—"

"You rest! I'm scavenging for water." Chet stomped off, calling over his shoulder as he flicked on a flashlight he'd pulled from his rucksack. "I'll be back before dawn," he added in a grumble.

Watching him leave, Sam wilted where he stood, arms dangling loose by his sides. "Crap."

**.**

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Sarah didn't remember falling asleep again after Chet left. Considering how much she'd already slept, it surprised her. But she didn't think about that until much later because at the time of her second awakening in the cave there wasn't time to think about anything but survival.

A hand smashed over her mouth woke her the second time while simultaneously dredging up old fears of THAT DAY. For a short, heart-soaring moment (which she also thought about much later) Sarah hoped the man-shaped shadow leaning over her, as she squinted in the dark, eyes adjusting, was Jareth.

Not Jareth.

Or Sam.

Or even Chet.

A rugged, scraggly long-haired face hung above her, his body weight pressed her into the hard ground as he easily cut off her ability to scream, making breathing difficult around his meaty palm. Panic—clawing at her lungs and throat—finished the job as inhaling became an Olympic event. Sparkles pranced in her vision, brightening the darkness and increasing her terror.

_Vulture! _she screamed in her in mind, and tried to twist her way out of his grip. Her power to Un-fix filtered up, sizzling beneath her sternum and begging for release. If she could touch him with her hands, she could unravel the sweater of his consciousness. _Just a single pluck… _She inched her arms from the weight of his legs, crawling her fingers closer.

He flicked a lighter as he shook his head slowly, leisurely, as if he had eons to waste. The small flame illuminated his macabre necklace of dissected human bits rattling to and fro. That detail nearly finished her sanity, nearly pulled her loose—so close—as she worked her hands free. Somehow he had anticipated her action and head-butted her hard enough to daze her into a mild stupor. She caught a whiff of fusty alcohol and sour body odor a split second before impact. How was it they all smelled the same? Moaning, Sarah rolled to a fetal position as soon as he released her, standing up to tower. But before she could spare a vain hope for her freedom (or wonder about Jareth, Sam or Chet) the Vulture struck her head again with something much harder and blackness followed.

**.**

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><p><strong>Joie Cullen: <strong>Thanks! I've got your blog bookmarked, though I'm still updating here until I know differently. I'm updating all the sites no matter what, but I'm keeping it smut free on this site just in case. **  
><strong>

**Strangers to Love: **Thanks! I'm glad this fic has gotten so popular. It was a slow start since it different than my usual and from most of the other Laby fics, but once people start reading it they can't stop. Awesome! I'm glad my writing is so tight and tense. That's exactly what I'm going for with 'argh' chapter endings. This one is especially 'argh'!

**Hachimanskitsune: **Okay, I've got my blog up and running and now that I'm back from vacation, I'll be updating regularly again.

**Buffy: **It is odd. Thanks for the great support! I assume it's for fictionpress too. But my blog and AFF will have all my usual fics and updates and I plan on writing no matter what. Lemons will at least be on AFF.

**Autumn O'Shea Swan: **Thanks! I'll make sure to keep you updated where ever I end up.

**Sarah Rose 29: **Awesome, thanks! Always great to hear how readers are excited for updates. That's probably one of the best compliments!

**Angelus Draco:** Oh yes, they're being nicer to each other, and now the shit is really going to hit the fan. Muahahahaha!

**Angelwells: **Thanks! LOL, yeah I would too. Sam... how he feels about Sarah... that is yet to be revealed.

**David Bowie's Pants: **Mmm ... intense emotions in an intense atmosphere are always delicious. And the situation is about to be far more intense. Far. More. Intense.

**Janeaustenromantic: **Yes, I agree. FF is easier to keep up with and yes I will let everyone know when I extract lemons and such from these ff in future chapters which I put on other sites. Probably a few chapters off yet.

** : **Thanks! The direction is very specific and I've been shooting for these next chapters since the beginning. And I'm glad the chapter lengths are good. This fic seems to like 2000 ish word chapters. Some I write tend towards longer, some shorter. It all depends on the story I'm telling. I go with the inherent pacing that feels right. LOL! I love how you say nothing much happened yet it was exciting. Actually a lot happened in the characterization and plot development. There doesn't always have to be action for it to be exciting. Last chapter was a lead in to this chapter which is very important and a set up for the next chapter. They all connect to one another. I try very hard to never writer filler. Everything is important.

**Vampiyaa: **We've had our PM discussion about niggle, so I won't get back into it here. LOL!

**J Luc Picard: **Yes it is, isn't it? Jareth has become quite possessive about Sarah and there's something up with Sam.

**Banannorama: **Awesome! Great to know people will be following me. But I agree, ff is easier to use, hence its popularity. I plan to keep updating here as long as they allow it. So far no problems or contact from admin for me. And the plot thickens again!

**Feyfaerie: **Oh there's more spice coming! I'm toning down the M rating here, but not on other sites, so I'll be letting readers know when I cut MA scenes so they can go to the other sites to read them. Don't want to risk getting bumped before this fic is finished. The M rating here doesn't mean MA. Thanks!

**Lady Augustin: **Exactly, they're both in denial, but that's about to change. Don't worry, I have it all worked out... muahahahaha! Teehee.

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><p><strong>AN: Back from vacation and got this chapter finished. As you can see things have gotten suddenly quite bad. What's going to happened? Vultures have found them? Holy crap! What will they do?**

**Enjoy  
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**Jinx  
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	20. Chapter 20

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><p><strong>Chapter 20<strong>

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Jareth awoke to strong hands grappling him to the ground and forcing a blindfold over his eyes. With his strength diminished, the unknown assailants easily overpowered him while he growled and cursed. His kicking and flailing gained him nothing as they restrained him, his new wrist and ankle bindings cutting deep as they tightened and secured them.

"Sarah!" he shouted, heard only his voice echo back over the sounds of their scuffing. "_Sarah_!" Jareth squirmed on the sharp rocks, moving toward the direction he last remembered seeing her. But unseen hands halted him, then shoved a bristly gag in his mouth.

The knot was too snug at the base of his skull; it made the coarse fabric tear at his already damaged lips, but he didn't care. He cared about finding Sarah, then destroying those who laid hands upon them. He felt his bloodlust, always so close to bursting through his civilized veneer since meeting up with Sarah again, stir and leer gleefully. The rhythm of his heart pounded in his ears; it blurred out all other sounds until his father came to him.

"_Calm yourself, Jareth. You let it take you over now, you'll be nothing but a caged animal."_

_Da!_

Jareth took in slow, measured breaths throughhis nostrils, doing his best to block out the fetid odor and dirty taste of the gag. _Calm, calm…_ His eyes drifted shut beneath the black of the blindfold; his limbs fell lax in their restraints onto the rocky ground. He held his last one.

_You're useless to her and yourself as a … berserker. _He disliked even thinking Sam's term for his behavior, apt though it was. But as his body relaxed, Jareth did feel the bloodlust recede, pulling back to that dark cave hidden behind his breastbone. There it lurked, a pocket of infestation waiting for his weakness, his thinning, for its opportunity to rule.

Releasing his held breath, Jareth now sensed his true environment: sounds of men speaking in low tones, their voices and words unrecognizable, heavy breathing close to him and the faint aroma of Sarah's astringent soap he hadn't realized he'd come to appreciate until that very second.

_She's close! _His heart flipped, a spear of joy shooting through his chest, until he accepted she might not be alive. What if they'd already… _Oh Danu, please don't take her. Not yet. _

"_Not yet?"_ his father asked, neither accusing nor denying.

_I merely meant … _

"_Yes?"_

_I… _What had he meant to ask Danu to spare Sarah? From death? Suffering? Until when? In the cold, abrasive confines of the cave, restrained and captured, Jareth contemplated what his internal, emotional outburst really meant, and the only answer was the simplest.

He cared about her. He actually, truly cared about what happened to her, wanted to know more about her, be close to her and not in a protective-big-brotherish way.

His muffled groaned reverberated inside his head. For a moment, he couldn't decide what was worse, being abducted—again (what were the odds? Mythical, surely)—by villains unknown, or realizing he was in love with Sarah Williams while she was in danger too. He groaned a second time, rolling towards the strongest area of her scent.

_Definitely the latter. I can always kill kidnappers. _

Hands gripped the bindings encircling his wrists and ankles, yanking upwards. Rocks scraped the side of his face as he was lifted and carried from where he hoped Sarah lie. Tension pulled at his gut the farther they walked; he felt sure it would snap and destroy him. Wriggling and twisting, he tried to free himself, but something hard struck him in the temple, bringing flashes of colored lights to his closed eyes and a wave of dizziness.

"Stop fighting," a man said, snagging Jareth's scalp roughly and jerking his head back at a painful angle. Jareth growled at him, baring the few teeth not covered by the gag, his nostrils flaring. Jareth felt the man move closer, then he spoke low and threatening into his ear, his breath a hiss on his skin.

"You want to live, eh?" A pause, a shift in the way the other men held him aloft. "You want her to live?" Jareth jerked, involuntarily, bit back another growl. "Mm … thought so. You behave, eh," the man released his hair and patted his head, rewarding a favored pet, "maybe I let you both live."

The man's laughter followed Jareth as the others carried him from the cave, the night's cold cutting through his still sweat-dampened clothing. _Still wet? It can't be very late if my clothes aren't dry. How long did we sleep? _

As the men walked him downhill, he tried to remember what happened after he helped heal Sarah. They tossed him into some type of wagon. He landed hard with an 'oof', the wood groaning and clawing at his weight. Immediately, they went to work securing his wrists and ankles its sides, and Jareth knew escape would be difficult if not impossible for the present. He was blind and nearly immobilized, as well as weakened from his trek and loss of magic.

"Sit tight," one said as his wrists were pulled flush against vertical wood. The rough surface scraped. Hearing their footsteps crunch away, he laid his head back onto the flat panels and tried to recall the last few hours, but only Sarah and the feel of her came to him.

How she felt in his arms, so warm, so strong, so worth protecting. How her hands—blistered and red—felt fevered and delicate in his. He couldn't quite remember why he wanted to do that, where the urge sprang from, other than once he saw the outrage of her hands it had carved a hole in him. It could not be borne.

He reacted purely from emotion. Before he considered the why of his actions, he'd reached out and wrapped his hands around hers and the bliss… _The bliss! _ He could fly forever without wings! So much harmony; he never knew such a thing existed. _Da never told me about this…_

And then cold, crashing, alone, fatigue.

The brusqueness of the change, he supposed at the time, made he want to reconnect with her through touch. Even the merest brush of his fingertips along her freshly healed skin sent an overload of sensation throughout his body. Anymore and he'd feared his reaction, feared frightening Sarah with his intensity. But she must have known, must have seen how he quivered before her.

Now, lying in the back of their abductors' wagon, after his enlightenment in the cave, Jareth mentally kicked his witlessness—how of him stupid not to have seen or sensed the answer. It was so much more than simple caring. They were bound together somehow by their inherent natures—she, the nexus and he, the keeper of the bridge. Yet it was so much more than magic.

It was love.

_And what does this mean for us? _Jareth gulped and slumped into his prison. What indeed?

"Jareth?" a hissing whisper asked from the side of the wagon where his hands were secured. Jareth mumbled around his gag, and tried to sit up.

"... Het?"

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Chet had wandered in the dark for maybe a couple of hours. He wasn't exactly sure, but his internal clock was decent and it felt like it. His excuse about looking for water was exactly that—an excuse. After spending the last few days watching the group implode (as if any other result was likely) he couldn't stand to witness it for another minute and needed a break.

As usual, Sam was the big leader bossing everyone around, only Fixer wasn't in top condition to argue with him. Normally, Chet didn't get along with Fixer, but he didn't always get along with Sam either, so it worked to his advantage to have them balance each other out. But things were different with her ever since he salvaged Jareth. And wouldn't he just love to reverse that decision, leave the spoiled brat to freeze in the No-Where.

Within a day of Jareth being at the compound, Fixer gone from spittin' mad to smilin' to flirtin', definitely not the action of a woman in hate. What the hell did the two of them have in their history? Why the obvious hate/hate/attraction? Even he could feel it, so he knew Sam did.

Sam—

He'd been guessing it was simple jealousy directed at Jareth. There was a lot to be jealous about, if you forgot that Fixer said she hated Jareth which Chet wasn't so sure about. So what did that mean for Sam? Why the sudden snit fit? Chet couldn't say two words to Sam without them arguing (which was unusual even if they didn't always agree) and Chet was damn sick of it. In fact, he decided he was sick of the whole situation. That's what brought him back around to the cave a bit later, after he'd kick rocks and cussed out a few scraggly old trees.

He was going to tell Sam and Fixer he was done, out. They could go on without him if they wanted, but he was heading back to the compound. He wasn't a coward, far from it. He just didn't like how things were going with him being odd man out on this doomed party. Not that he wished ill on her kid brother, but hell, he hadn't even known the kid existed until a few days ago. That irked the most. The three of them knew something they weren't telling him.

And he really didn't like the whacked out vibes between Fixer and Jareth either; it made him real nervous. What the fuck happened to her hands? What did Jareth do? Or not do, as he claimed. He clutched his shotgun closer to his chest as he crept his way back through the dark, ravaged, leftover forest. There had better be some answers when he got back, or he was definitely gone. His fingers twisted on the shotgun's stock and he hunched his shoulders.

_I'll leave, don't you doubt it. I'll let ya fend for yourselves. _Though he suspected, as he threatened them in his mind, none would miss him. He was just a tag-along, unwelcome and unnecessary. Until he crested the hill and saw a dozen or so shadows sneaking into the cave, their murky outlines blending with the night so well he could barely count them from fifty feet away. Maybe he was a bit necessary after all.

"Fuck … Vultures," he muttered and crouched behind a small boulder. Faint lights flickered within the cave, and he heard schuffling, voices and Jareth distinctly shouting, "Sarah". A few minutes later, after waiting with one hand digging into the boulder's irregular surface and the other hugging his shotgun, he watched a few of the intruders carry someone out and secure him into an old fashioned wagon, which he hadn't noticed until then.

Once they left, returning to the cave, Chet took the opportunity to hurry downhill. One quick peek over the wagon's edge revealed a bound and gagged…

"Jareth?"

The blond man, startled, jerked to a partial sitting position made awkward by his wrists and ankles bound to the edges of the wagon. "…Het?" he mumbled around his gag, blindly pivoting toward him.

"Where's Sam and Fixer?" Chet reached over the wagon's edge, and worked the gag loose.

Jareth eagerly spit the rag out, shaking his head until he wore it as a grimy ascot. "Still inside, I presume. You haven't seen them?"

"No," Chet pushed the blindfold up and off of Jareth's head, "just got back."

"Untie me." Jareth strained at his restraints, grimacing.

"Workin' on it …" Chet hissed at him, already struggling with the rope's knots in the dark.

"Watch out!" Still tied to the wagon, Jareth thrashed violently when a shadow loomed behind Chet; the wagon rocked and creaked. Chet spun in place, throwing up his arms a half-second too late to ward off the blow. With a gasping gurgle, he crumpled to the ground, disappearing from Jareth's view.

"Chet!" Jareth pulled himself up, his bound hands supporting his weight, splinters from the desiccated wood lacerating his palms. The shadow stood over the fallen Chet, the edge of a large blade, Jareth knew as a machete, caught the faint glint of moonlight as the cloud cover broke. The moonlight should've been silvery-white, but it was tinged spoiled butter. Its insubstantial tendrils made the blood on the machete look dripping orange-black.

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Even in the dark, Jareth knew by Chet's immobility, it was too late. "No …" The machete wielding shadow shifted his weight, standing tall and pointed the blade at Jareth—a challenge or threat? His bloodlust reignited, searing his vocal cords to a deep bass.

"Do your worst, Vulture."

The shadow laughed, a cavernous sound that enraged Jareth's bloodlust further, causing him to spasm at his limits, twisting, flopping and snarling. The Vulture laughed louder before replacing the gag and blindfold, so casually, despite Jareth's best efforts to evade them. He continued laughing as he walked away, leaving Jareth to settle back in the darkness.

Lying there, alone, knowing Chet's life bled into the soil and worrying about Sarah and even Sam, Jareth's childhood fears of abandonment returned, creeping under the door of his control. His bloodlust pushed back with a growl. He gave it full reign, releasing it, knowing he needed it to protect himself. His senses heightened and narrowed, burning away the memories of the Hunters chasing him and Jenea. Only survival mattered—his and Sarah's—and he would do whatever required to assure it.

**.**

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><p><strong>FeyFaerie: <strong>Thanks, yeah they're moving closer, faster now and the next chapters are going to be quite intense for everybody. **  
><strong>I do my best to keep Jareth in character (whatever manifestation I've molded him into) whenever I write him. They're softening, but if it happened too fast it would be weird and unbelievable.

**Angelus Draco: **LOL, whatever works for you. The Vultures are badass, but yeah, they don't really understand what they're tangling with. Thanks!

** : **Awesome! So great to hear! Last chapter was fun to write. Lots of great stuff going on, and I'd been excited to post it knowing the cliffy would freak everyone. Glad you're loving the romance pace. I feel like it's working nicely. It's still only been a few days for them, but the intense events have woken intense emotions.

**Angelwells: **Thanks! Well, now we know what happened/happens to Chet and things are stalled for Jareth. Still don't know the status of Sarah or Sam, which is next chapter!

**janeaustenromantic: **Great! I'm glad that romantic UST is coming through. They're gradually focusing more and more on their feelings while pushing the world away. As for lemon scenes... sigh. I'll have to see how things are going here. I'm gong to write them and I will post them on adult fan fiction, deviant art and my blog for sure; I might post them here. I will tell everyone when any scenes are removed.

**Hachimanskitsune: **Muhahahaha! Yes, I am evil. Chet's attitude is now explained a bit. As for why Chet and Jareth didn't know the Vulture(s) were there... will be explained very soon.

**Banannorama: **I know, the new posting process is weird. It caught me by surprise a few times too. Hope this chapter entertains too!

**Lady Augustin: **Thanks. Yes, you'd be correct assuming that if they work together great things can be accomplished. Is Sarah well liked? Hmm, not exactly. I know, that cliffy was cruel but the pacing really works, muahahaha!

**DavidBowie'sPants: **The new site functions are weird. Remember, even with his bloodlust, Jareth has no magic currently. No it doesn't make you a bad person not to really care about Sam or Chet. It means I haven't done a good enough job attaching you to my OC's. Meh... something I plan on remedying when I convert this to an original story. It'll be much longer with a lot much back story for all my characters. Jareth is quite weakened and once the adrenaline of the adventure wears off, I'm sure he'll feel very sick. Thanks!

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><p><strong>AN: Thanks for all the awesome reviews! I'm glad everyone really enjoyed (stressed out over) last chapter. I couldn't wait to post that last chapter as it a major turning point in the story. This chapter (though it may feel a bit like filler) is critical too. It leads us into some very necessary character/story developments, and more answers are coming in the next chapters. We'll find out how/where Toby is soon, why the vultures took him and the fate of Sam, Sarah and Jareth. Muahahahaha!**

**Always... thanks for reading, enjoy and please review!  
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**Jinx  
><strong>


	21. Chapter 21

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><p><strong>Chapter 21<strong>

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"You didn't have to kill him!" Sam snarled. "That wasn't part of the deal!"

"You weren't supposed to have extra company, eh, Sam," a tall man with sunken cheeks responded, then pointed his machete at the unconscious Sarah currently being gathered up by his men. "You were only supposed to bring her. Lucky I let your other friend live, eh."

Sam scowled and ground the ball of his foot in the cave's gravel floor. "That's for your benefit, remember? I don't understand it, but they're connected somehow."

"Magic, eh?" He spat. The gob landed suspiciously near Sam's boot, soaking into the dusty scree. "Crazy talk."

"Not from me, already told you what I think, Pierre." Sam gestured with his arched thumb over his shoulder. He aimed toward Fixer, who was being carried out to the wagon to join Jareth. "They call it magic."

"No matter as long as she works, eh?" The Vulture grinned, exposing several black squares of missing or rotten teeth.

Sam stepped closer, shifting his weapon's muzzle vaguely under Pierre's chin. "And what 'bout your end of the deal? I didn't see any deliveries in your wagon."

Pierre laughed, his casually dark chuckle filling the small cave until Sam found breathing difficult. "I thought you'd like to join us for a bit. See the accommodations, eh?"

"Go back with you?" He practically squeaked, then gulped. He'd planned on being far away after the exchange. The thought of seeing Sarah's look when she figured out …

"Squeamish, are you?" Pierre easily redirected the muzzle with the back of his hand. "You ride with us; you'll get what I promised, eh."  
>Sam narrowed his eyes suspiciously. "Why the invite?"<p>

"Maybe I just want to be sure, eh?"

Sam dropped his weapon back to his side. "Fine, but don't call me by name and they both stay blindfolded."

Pierre shrugged and his lips downturned. "Fair enough."

A long haired man wearing a long coat shuffled into the entrance. "They're secured, sir."

"Good, let's go before the sun's up," Pierre said. "We've got a bit of ground to cover, eh?" He clapped Sam on the back and laughed.

Sam jerked away, stomping out of the cave. "You just finish your end of the deal."

Pierre kept laughing, saying to his man as they followed Sam, "I told you, eh. No sense of humor that one."

"Yes, sir."

**.**

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After witnessing Chet's death, Jareth lie waiting in tense silence for something to happen. Muffled voices at a distance, then footfalls crunching closer snagged his attention. He held his breath as the wagon rocked accompanied by the sounds of another person being tied near him.

Sarah's soap— its smell washed over him like a wave of fresh air. Relief gushed through him, and he held back a very unmanly sob. He'd hoped they kidnapped her rather than killing her like poor Chet. _Indeed, what is the point of abducting us at all? _he wondered. Not that he preferred death. And what of Sam?

He'd heard nothing but unfamiliar voices. If Sam were dead as well then their fates were in their own hands. No one knew of their whereabouts or destination. The wagon lurched into motion, rattling his head against the floorboards and causing the bonds to chaff.

_If only my power wasn't diminished. I could erase these Vultures from the world with one curl of a finger! _As it was, he'd settle for assuring himself of Sarah's health at the moment and count himself fortunate. He gnawed at the gag in frustration.

In addition, he could feel his strength deserting him by the new, intermittent jolts of pain traveling throughout his limbs and torso. The desperate trek to the cave drained him further than he expected, and only the rough bumps of the wagon and his worry kept him from drifting off into exhaustion. The toll of magic deprivation stole from him quicker than he had anticipated.

"_Hang on, boy. Worse is coming."_

_What do you see, Da?_

"_I cannot tell you, but know that I'll be with you."_

_Somehow that doesn't seem as supportive, _Jareth deadpanned, and tried to relax to gain rest while he could.

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A headache jackhammered Sarah's skull, one side distinctly more tender than the other. The bouncing from whatever she was lying on didn't help either. It was hard with rough edges pricking through her clothes, and her hand and legs were bound, making it that much more uncomfortable. All in all, the experience was quite miserable ... then she regained enough of her wits to understand she was also gagged and blindfolded.

_Vultures! _ Her world dropped away, spiraling into vertigo, and she fought a wave of panic panting in her throat. Memories of being attacked in the cave swamped her; she hated how quickly they made her feel young and helpless again. Strange, unfamiliar voices floated around her—one with an unusual accent.

_Get a hold of yourself. You can fight this, them! You're not a dumb kid anymore!_

Focus, she needed to focus on her power—w_hat if it doesn't work? What if it backfires again? I don't understand what's changed—_then she could free herself and … and whoever else was still alive. Was anyone else? Was … Jareth? For a split second, she recognized the sick irony of her worry flashing to Jareth before Sam, her near foster father who'd kept her sane and healthy for years. Why would she worry about the Goblin King, the man who'd helped created this entire mess?

Then she, with a stab of burning guilt in her chest, remembered Chet. Where was he? Was she the last alive? Sarah moaned as a new dose of panic hit her, not noticing her transport stagger to a harsh stop. So immersed in her misery, she didn't hear the clamors of boots on wood wagon slats, or the echoing mutters of Jareth only feet from her, unable to move. She lost track of time, drifting …

"Hey!" A slap to her face stung her exposed skin, brought her to reality. "Wake up, Sleeping Beauty!" She jerked her head back, reeling, and pulled at her restraints with a muffled cry. "Easy… I'll let you loose, but you behave."

Blind, mute, frightened to the edge of her wits, Sarah froze. Firm hands held her shoulders down, and she suppressed a whimper. Where was her angry power now? It tickled her breastbone, but she feared reaching for it. Seconds stretched and she finally managed a faltering nod.

"Good girl," he said, patting her shoulder, and she felt the ties at her wrists and ankles loosen until her arms and legs flopped down. Unfortunately, even if she had planned to fight then, they quickly re-tightened the cords at her wrists while leaving her ankles free. Needled tingles and heated pain rushed to her feet as her circulation, so long cut off, resumed.

"I need you to walk," he told her, grasping her forearms and tugging. "You scoot to the edge and stand."

"Muhmm?" she mumbled, rolling her head and shrugging her shoulders towards her face.

"You walk first; I take the blindfold off soon." He tugged harder at her arms.

Resigned, Sarah followed his lead until the end of the wagon slid under her legs, then she allowed her knees to bend ninety degrees. Her feet, still singing with fresh blood, stung when the soles of her boots hit a hard, uneven surface. As the Vulture pulled her forward, stumbling, she heard another slap and groaning behind her. Sounds of a rough struggle followed.

_Was someone in the wagon with me?_ Emotions conflicted—elation, fear, happiness, concern—as she wondered (and hoped) who might've lain next to her.

"Stop." He jerked her to a halt, and they waited. The Vulture's calloused fingers dug hard into her arm muscles, and her skin grew clammy at the building indeterminate situation. Over the pounding of her heart, she tried to listen, tried to calm herself enough to exert her power. But too many unknowns haunted her: _What if it doesn't work? What if Jareth or Sam or Chet are alive and I harm them? What if I injury myself again?_

She was distracted by gravel crunching next to her and two voices arguing nearby, one a hissing, angry whisper sprinkled with familiarity.

"You're fucking kidding me, Pierre!"

A bark of harsh laughter—"I never kid in deals, eh."

"What did you animals do to her?"

"She was useful during her visit here. You should've agreed sooner, eh? Maybe she fare better."

The hands at Sarah's arms shifted, and her blindfold and gag were stripped away. She worked her jaw and blinked at the sudden change from black to gray gloom due to the oversized cavern. But that's not what made her eyes water and tear, though she wished with all her heart it was.

"_Sam_?" she asked, her voice coming out smaller than she'd hoped. _God, I'm such a stupid kid_, she thought with pure despair. Someone gasped, then growled next to her. Some part of her registered it as Jareth (her body refused to turn and look) but any (supposed) relief was overshadowed by her vision narrowing on the view several feet in front of her.

Sam's expression surpassed shock. In that fragment of hell, Sarah watched a tremor of pained, disorienting incredulity ripple from his face (which whirled up and around at his name) through his entire body. It _was _him, his voice, arguing with the Vulture. _What deal?_

"What deal?" she asked aloud in a bizarre, slow-motion parody of her internal voice (her thoughts circled it in frenzy).

Ashen, Sam's mouth worked without sound as his head swiveled back and forth between Sarah and a bedraggled, rag covered person huddled at the Vulture's feet. "Fixer…"

"_What deal?"_ she repeated, louder, feeling her power focusing. It was like a blade honing itself beneath her breast, its stark edges cutting her even as she relished the surge. It would be so easy to obliterate everyone and everything.

The Vultures laughed, and it came to Sarah how many were standing around them. Dozens… They were enjoying the scene. They wanted her to see, to know. Betrayal in its purest form delighted them. _Bastards…_

"You don't understand," Sam said, brows furrowing as he crouched and reached for the mass of leftover humanity hiding its face against the Vulture's legs. It flinched from Sam's touch and whimpered. "I had to do it. For her, for my Sally."

"Oh God … Sam." Nausea danced next to her power, twisting her guts, confusing her further. The punch was harsh and all consuming. That … that person was his daughter? That … pile of rags, bruises and dirt clinging to the legs of the Vulture he called Pierre. So many ramifications hit her at once, she couldn't move. Vaguely she heard laughter all around, even from dark shadows in the caverns which she couldn't see. Oh, but she could hear them.

Jareth, a silent witness until now, finally commented, derision thick in his tone, "So you betrayed Sarah, and your entire complex of trusting people, by agreeing to … trade?"

"You knew," Sarah said. "You knew they were going to attack."

"All those deaths, Sam, are on your soul," Jareth added.

"They weren't supposed to take so long! It was supposed to be a quick grab and run!"

"For Toby," Sarah said under her breath, then stronger, "you knew I'd do anything to get him back, you bastard."

"I'm sorry, Sarah," Sam said in obvious misery, his face grimacing to a deep flush and his fists clenching. He stood, gazing down at Sally with something like regret carving in face. "What you feel for Toby, imagine feeling a hundred times that." He met Sarah's eyes again, then flicked over to Jareth's. "You'll do anything for a child … _anything." _

"Even risk another?" she asked.

"Len was never at risk," he said, matter-of-factly.

Shaking her head, Sarah said, "I meant me."

Sam blinked, opened his mouth, then blinked again. "I …"

"Yeah, that's what I thought."

And the Vultures had kept laughing, cruelly, in the background, enjoying their spectacle of wretchedness. Obviously they've moved up in the world from merely physical torture. Fury burned Sarah's soul at every grating guffaw.

The one who had removed her blindfold and gag, and Jareth's as well, stood behind her. He rested a hand on her shoulder, squeezing, restraining. "You're ours now, Fixer," he said in her ear. "Can't wait to use _all _your talents." A wet, slithery thing licked below her ear, trailing upwards. "We've heard so much 'bout you."

Sarah choked back a bitter sob and turned her head to Jareth. His eyes held a mixture of emotions she couldn't begin to categorize at the present time, but she easily recognized a similar fury shining over them all. Why would the Goblin King feel such a thing for her? His eyes flashed as he stared at her, his pale lips a thin line pressed together. She felt as if he were trying to tell her something, sending her a message by telepathy (if such a thing were possible).

A blossoming heat spread from behind her breastbone as she matched his gaze. The Vultures' laughs trailed off, and Sam shouted. Sarah ignored them, feeling her power flush through her. It burned. It seared. It hurt. She cringed, her eyes squinting at the pain. _It's backfiring again!_

Then Jareth lunged towards her, throwing his bound wrists over her head, his arms tightened around her torso as he pulled her close. She looked up at him, pressed to his chest. Her power surged at his touch, spiraling up and out. It flowed from her, into him and back. Jareth's eyes widened, his pupils dilating.

Hands grappled them, tried to pry them apart.

He pressed his lips to hers.

Sarah gasped.

Jareth growled.

The world shattered.

**.**

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><p><strong> :<strong> It was a massive tease, wasn't it? Yep, remember Jareth's story of being lost with his sister during one of the first chapters? I do try to make all my characters much more human and interesting. Thanks! You think last chapter was a cliffy! **  
><strong>

**The Queen of Water: **Thanks!

**Autumn O'Shea Swan: **Muahaha! I know, right? I am evil. But I know you love to hate me and my writing. LOL, yeah a machete is an icky way to go. Sam?

**Buffy: **LOL, how's this?

**Angelwells: **Yes, poor Chet. Thanks! Hmm... Sam huh?

**Banannoram: **The new posting thing is screwy. Even some of us with accounts keep getting signed in as guest. Weird. Thanks! The plot is very much thickening. It is too bad about Chet. I want to add more to his character when I rewrite this OC, but it was time for him to DIE! LOL, he is a bit like Lennie. What a great character comparison. (And great story too!) Though Chet is probably a bit smarter, but not a whole lot.

**labyrinth-lover:** Awesome! Well, this last one is even better! Thanks!

**janeaustenromantic: **Aaaaaand another cliffy. I am soooo evil! But hey, things are getting serious! And lemons will be coming!

**Guest: **LOL! Chet was a redshirt. Sad but true.

**Angelus Draco: **Thanks! This one should really be fun for you. :o)

**Hinakoki: **Thank so much! You know, those details and names come to me as I write. I don't do outlines, seriously. I write and it all materializes, so thanks! Glad it's working so well. J and S's relationship is taking the next step. And battle time is on!

**Lady Augustin: **Yep, they're captured, but they're not about to take things 'lying down'. Sarah is difficult to get to know/get close to. She isn't hated and the Vultures don't really dislike her. They're another reason.

**selena.t: **awesome! So great to know people are excited and anxious to read it. I know what you mean about most of the stories being the same old same old. UGH, I big reason I decided to write this. It's different so it tends to scare some away, but it also brings others in.

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><p><strong>AN: And here's another cliffy! Probably more evil than the last, muahahaha! But hey! They kissed! Sort of. I'll get into a bit more detail about that next chappie, but they did kiss. I was going to delve into it more here, but... the pacing didn't work. It'll keep until next chapter, but I know y'all probably hate me. **

**Read, Enjoy and Review!  
><strong>

**Jinx  
><strong>


	22. Chapter 22

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><p><strong>Chapter 22<strong>

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That moment the Vulture had dared touch her, placing his vile lips and tongue upon her flesh, Jareth's bloodlust riled. Hammering out of its cage, it flooded his veins with molten fury. He'd barely controlled it, tried to telegraph his intentions when her uncertain eyes met his.

The discordant vibrations of her power plucked the bare wire of his emotions, making his control ever more tenuous. If only he could harness it as he did when he healed her, but consciously, with deliberate intent. He'd hardly known what he'd done but hours ago. He'd reacted on instinct … reacted…

Before his body could argue with his over analytical mind, Jareth threw his arms over Sarah and pulled her close. The buzz of her power jolted through him, as potent as his own but scattered and ill-defined. _Great Danu! What a sorceress she'd make with proper training! _

Startled eyes looked up at him, her bound hands smashed to his chest. And for those few seconds, as their enemies rallied and threatened, he saw something else reflected up which bade him to leap the last few inches—it looked surprisingly like trust. It gave him a triumphant lightness in his chest which competed with his violent darkness.

Jareth didn't question, he acted, pressing his lips to Sarah's with as much vigor as he dared given their circumstances. It was like tasting pure magic: crisp, clean, with a zing of spice. His bloodlust howled victory, making conscious thought difficult.

_Mine! _

Power flowed into Jareth, cycled to Sarah then back. It filled him, tasting comparable to his magic but foreign, yet highly delicious. Or perhaps the enjoyment stemmed from the source, and oh what a source! It would be so easy to lose himself, to forget the danger and why he chanced this.

Sarah's lips complied with his demands (eagerly if he failed to delude himself—one could hope) and the shouts of alarm surrounding them receded until only she existed in his awkward embrace. Her fingers twitched, then dug into his chest through his shirt. He felt, more than heard, her gasp as she opened her mouth to him, their tongues sliding along one another creating bone-shuddering friction. Her fingers dug harder, pinching his skin. He growled low in his throat and pulled her tighter to him as her magic overwhelmed his senses, tweaked his nerves, then streamed out of them in one concentric blast.

_Focus! _he screamed at himself since every caress of her lips sunk him further into her spell. Directing the borrowed magic, while so utterly and wonderfully distracted, took every ounce of his discipline—borne of decades of strict training under the highest tutelage.

"_Now you'll be grateful for all those grueling years of study you hated me for." _A disconnected, neutral portion of his mind heard his father's smug comment and responded with a mental –"uhmgh". He saved his sarcasm for later because Sarah shivered in his arms, deepening the kiss and pulling him from his pointless thoughts.

Only seconds had passed, it seemed longer, infinitely stretched out …

Hands grappled their arms, yanking harshly.

The first thing he engaged the power to accomplish, as it zoomed outwards, was burning away their bonds. Hardly free and he flattened his palms to her lower back as she snaked her arms around his neck. Her fingers tangled in his long hair, tugging at his scalp as he slightly arched her backwards.

Guttural voices rasped vague threats of violence which he ignored.

He felt the power wave engulf the Vultures attempting to separate them. Screams cut his haze of bloodlust and pure lust. It continued rippling and speeding to those farther out, to Sam and Pierre and the ill-fated Sally. Jareth tried to pinpoint the blast to Vultures only, but it was too wild, too quick and he was too preoccupied and far too tired.

As fast as it happened, the magic crackled to a rubber band snapping finale. The backlash struck them hard enough to crash through their combined fog. Silence hung like a velvet curtain, between them, around them…

Sarah stilled, her lips and wandering hands immobilized, yet she didn't pull away. Reluctantly, Jareth moved back, his mouth slightly open as he gazed down at her shaken, yet enticingly flushed expression. He wanted nothing more than to resume, but the trust in her eyes had been replaced with fragility.

_Too soon, too fast… _he chastised himself. Though he had little choice, and he regretted nothing … and yet… Gulping, he struggled to slow his breathing, noticing hers was as rapid. With a flip, hope nestled in his staccato heart beat. He rested his forehead to hers, then slowly exhaled.

"Sarah …" he said intimately, his nose lightly brushing the bridge of hers. _How do I explain? _

"Don't," she answered, short and brittle, then stepped back. Her arms slid from his neck to drop to her sides, leaden.

Cold shrouded where her warm once existed. He'd never felt so alone. Not even in the forest as a child hiding from the Hunters.

Jareth pursed his lips, and with a will, nodded once before he released his embrace and moved away. _We don't have time for romance anyway, _he thought with a pang of sour disappointment as he panned his head.

Vultures lay haphazardly in warped and damaged piles. Limbs were mangled beyond recognition, those still attached … as for their features. Jareth cringed—blood, so much of it dripped, splashed and pooled in the dimly lit cavern. If his bloodlust hadn't already been satiated indirectly, Jareth would've feared its unbridled reaction to the expanse of mortal fluid. Even now the salty zing teased his nose and watered his tongue. He shook it off with an irritable huff and watched Sarah leave his side.

"Sam," she whispered, her hands trembling as her jaw clenched. Warily, she approached the huddle of Sam over Sally. His daughter's lacerated arm peeked out from beneath Sam's protective, mutilated torso. Jareth watched her crouch, then hover a single wavering hand over Sam's torn body, unrecognizable but for his clothing.

Heaving a deep sigh, Jareth averted his gaze from the private moment, choosing instead to busy himself searching the scattered bodies for their belongings and any useful, random items. While he rummaged, his attention darted into the shadows, looking and listening. Surely there were more Vultures lurking. This cavern, as large as it was, couldn't be their entire hideout. It was too bare, like a holding room. More must be hidden away, and what of the exit large enough to allow the wagon? They needed to find the way out, quickly, before more Vultures arrived.

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Sarah's thoughts and emotions jumbled into a quagmire. Too much battered her walls, weakening her resistance when Jareth embraced her. A second later, perhaps two, then his mouth descended and she fell into him. She felt her power course; everywhere he touched it flowed from her to him, to her and back again. Faster than the fastest thought, he drew her power, enhanced and controlled it when she had been too flustered to act.

_Is this how magic tastes? _ It went straight to her head like the strongest alcohol with a tang. His kiss dragged every sensation she'd heard other women talk about (but she never experienced) from her: tingles sparked from her lips to her gut, heat swamped her chest and her skin tightened.

_More!—_was her prevailing thought as she wove her fingers in his silk hair, gripping and tugging. His bass growl and fingers digging into her back branded some part of her; she'd never be able to forget this or disregard him now. Things were changed forever.

A stinging slap was an icy shower, dousing her passion and power. The air thickened and she froze. _God, what am I doing? _Jareth moved away, a pensive expression crinkling his brow. Her face burned with embarrassment. _What the hell?_

His forehead was hot against hers, his breath gentle on her face. "Sarah…"

Chills ran over her skin, fringing her hairs upright. Emotions swamped her … _I can't do this! _

"Don't," she whispered, the word scarcely cutting from her dry mouth as she withdrew her numb arms from his neck. She closed her eyes, refusing to witness the temperature drop in his expression. It was difficult enough to feel him become the imperious Goblin King, but she knew this version. They danced this waltz best.

Instead she looked around at what remained of the Vultures, then choked back the bile burning the back of her throat. Human bits and parts lay strewn in crimson piles. Had she done this? Or had they or he? She wasn't sure where her power ended and his control started. _But if he can control it then it must be magic. I have magic? _That concept, accompanied with her reeling body, was far too much to absorb at the moment. Dazed, she slowly walked to the one person who mattered in her old reality.

"Sam?"

At the last, he'd struggled to protect Sally, though it didn't help either of them ultimately. Crouching next to Sam's arched over body huddled atop Sally, Sarah debated whether or not to touch him. She longed for the simple days when she might fling herself into his Sam's arms, begging to be understood and sheltered without the typical male demands or expectations. Now dead, his neck was obviously broken as his head was precariously perched on his neck while facing 180 degrees around. After everything, she wanted him back, in whatever illusionary form. As long as he lived, if for no reason other than to fight next to her.

Her hand came to rest on his chest; he was still warm. _Well, _she thought, _he is covered in fresh blood. _Then immediately chastised herself for being so hardhearted. Her fingers curled inward, dipping further into Sam's congealing syrup, catching on the edge of his jacket. Rotating her hand, she drew her fingers back through the sticky puddle and watched red dribble to her palm.

_Why can't I feel anything? What's wrong with me? _

"We have to go," Jareth hissed in her ear.

She jerked away as she faced him. He was leaning over, arms full of weapons and gear—some not particularly clean, some familiar. Jareth's eyes darted left and right, and his hands gripped everything so tight his skin blanched. Was the Goblin King nervous? And then she heard it… A low thundering of approaching feet running over hard packed ground; its muffled echo filtered throughout the cavern. Sarah's apathy splintered, becoming crystalline shards of terror.

"Vultures," she spat, standing, her blood-stained hand reaching for an M-16 as Jareth shifted one to her with an extra magazine. She quickly checked both, then flipped the safety off. Jareth reorganized his stash, handing her a few more items, and she noticed the sheath at his hip.

"You got your knife back."

Jareth grunted and nodded. "It's a good blade."

"Yeah." She faced the oncoming noise, honing her fear to violence. "We can't leave without Toby," she said without looking at him, hardening her voice.

"I know." He pulled back the charging hammer, then released it with a metallic clack. Their conversation ceased as both stared straight ahead, positions prepped and dangerous. Shouts and screams could now be heard.

Sarah slowed her breathing while her heart pumped too fast. _Soon… live or die, we don't leave without Toby. _She clenched her teeth and squeezed her lips to a line.

Jareth shuffled his feet, dropping the muzzle of his weapon, and Sarah glanced over. He was staring at her with something raw flickering in his eyes. Sensory memory flooded her body: his body planed to hers, his lips—firm yet gentle—opening up a new world for her, his long fingers pressed to her spine. She held back a groan, but unexpectedly her heart lightened. Her fear and apathy dissolved with the buzzing of her lips, and she grinned as the first Vultures rampaged into the cavern.

Oddly, she was glad Jareth was by her side, her ally. She wanted to laugh with fatalistic glee.

"You gonna fight or gawk, Goblin King?" she asked, aiming her weapon and pulling the trigger.

He grinned in return. "Fight, of course."

**.**

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><p><strong>Sarah Rose 29: <strong>You're welcome! Four left the complex - Sam, Chet, Sarah (Fixer) and Jareth. :o)

**Lily-Beth. Bluebell: **I know. I love ending my chappies on tense cliffies. And if I do say so my self... I've gotten rather good at writing/pacing them. Sam... I've been plotting his betrayal for awhile now. I never use an outline, so about 2/3 of the story back (after the Vultures attacked the complex) my muse told me what had to happen. I knew it was perfect. I also was going to have J/S kiss later, but as I wrote last chapter my muse whispered that Jareth wanted to kiss Sarah now and that it would work best to have him do that to focus/control her wild magic. I really love how it worked last chapter. Sam's betrayal does deepen his character, doesn't it? And though Sally's dead, we're not quite done with her 'story' yet. It's more of an implied story arc, but still...

**Bananomma: **I know. But at least I try to update fairly regularly and quickly. :o)

**The Queen of Water: **Thanks! Glad you enjoyed it!

**UnwrittenOpus: **Muahahaha! No, Sam never had a thing for Sarah. He cared about her, but not like she thought. Makes his betrayal that much harsher really. Glad you loved/hated the cliffie! The one isn't as big, but big enough.

**HachimansKitsune: **MUahahaha! I love me some climax/cliffie scenes. The Vultures wanted to do all sorts of things to Sarah, and Sam (as I implied with his dialogue) had a difficult time coming to the decision to exchange her. Still... betrayal is betrayal. Thanks!

**Autumn O'Shea Swan: **LOL! You, my friend, are getting to know my writing too well. :o) Totally not complaining. I do try to be as unpredictable as possible, but a) you can only do so much while staying true to a plot/character b) this story isn't that complex c) I haven't been trying to be as twisting with this one d) you're getting to know my writing style e) you're very perceptive (drat you!) Seriously though, that's good! I left little clues and foreshadowing, so I'm extremely happy that you read them correctly and guessed the surprise because that means I wrote well. Surprises and twists only work without cheating with proper foreshadowing. You want to be sneaky and vague but not so obscure that it makes no sense or out right lie unless it's part of the plot or character. So bravo to both of us! As for the second part: Yes, yes and YES!

**Guest: **Yep! Sam was plotting the whole trip. Evil, evil plotting. J and S have a big fight and they still have to find Toby. Thanks!

**buffy: **LOL! Did I do that? Give you a heart attack/crushing anger and happiness? Woohoo! I was an intense chapter and this one is very descriptive/narrative with a major lead in. Things will be speeding up now! Thanks! You know you love it!

**Angelwells: **LOL! As they say, always leaving them wanting more. Cliffies are a writer's best friend. But I always resolve my cliffies and I do my best to resolve them with satisfaction, usually with happy endings. Usually. Muahahahaha! Thanks!

**labyrinth-lover:** Yes... Sam. RIP. dudududdum...

**Shenlong Girl: **Hey, long time no hear. Hope your summer's been nice. Glad you're enjoying the fic so far. You're coming in at a great point when things are really heating up. Thanks!

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><p><strong>AN: Holy crap! Two chapters in one week! Yes! I'm on a bit of a roll. Though I should be finishing my original Dreams of the Queen (two chapters left I think! for those of you following) But I can't help it, muse says I must write Falling. That's okay, I've been working towards these big chapters for months, so I'm really excited to be in them. The action and smut are going to be rolling now! Still, smutty smut is a few chapters off, but we're getting there! Promise! Thanks!**

**Read, Enjoy and Please Review!  
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**Jinx  
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	23. Chapter 23

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><p><strong>Chapter 23<strong>

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If battle could be called glorious, then Jareth would've deemed this one thusly had he remembered most of it. Outnumbered and outgunned, but not outmatched, he and Sarah cut a swathe through the teeming horde as if they were born battle-mates. Perhaps they were, so much else apparently matched between them, why not this as well? If he had the time to think on it, he might've wondered how it had come to be.

As it was, time did not fight on their side.

Jareth fell into his bloodlust as easily as he pulled his weapon's trigger. Each jolt dragging him farther under until a world of red sound surrounded him with Sarah's single, brilliant presence tingling at its edge. Later, he'd ponder how he remembered to reload with scavenged ammunition, but during the violence it didn't matter. Minor wounds were received, masked by his adrenalin; he'd feel them after the drop. As would she…

She … Sarah…

Jareth blinked, clearing away the murk. She stood in front of him, shouting his name, her arm upraised and poised in anger. His hand flashed out, catching her wrist a split second before the slap impacted his cheek.

"I'd much prefer another kiss," he said in a rusty voice.

"Jareth? Shit, I was worried you'd permanently checked out." He released her wrist, and her arm dropped to her side with thud.

"I'm quite in control of my faculties," he grimaced at a wave of dizziness, "for the most part." He cleared his throat and leaned into her space, eyelids half closed. "Though you are incredibly … distracting."

A smile tugged at the corner of her mouth, and her eyes sparkled, all framed by her grimy face and frazzled hair. "You're not going to attack me again, are you?" she asked, ducking her head, and he swore she acted coquettish.

His residual bloodlust burned anew. "Only if required," he shuffled closer, "but I prefer my partner be equally," he head tilted and lips quirked, "_excited_."

She snorted, but didn't back away. "I bet."

Jareth raised a hand toward her face, then a muffled scream rent their cozy atmosphere, and they jerked apart. Sarah spun in place, weapon coming up from her side with a metallic clatter. His awareness snapped from Sarah and expanded.

"Where are we?" he asked, noticing they stood in a strange cave corridor strewn with bodies. He scanned the blackness punctuated by dancing flame sconces affixed to the walls. The bloodlust had possessed him so absolutely (for how long?) he hadn't realized that his right foot currently crushed a dead Vulture's hand. Even now, he detected the partially smashed bones grinding together through the hard sole of his boot when he shifted his stance. Bile rose, conflicting with his flare of arousal, and he forcibly blocked both.

"I have no idea where we're at. They herded us here after we fought out of the first cave."

Jareth pivoted and pressed his back to hers, his weapon joining hers to pan the area. "They did?"

"You don't remember?"

Her shoulder blades dug lightly into his back just below his, and her warmth seeped into him. "Did I look like I remembered anything?" he snapped.

"Hmm … good point."

"We couldn't have killed them all … could we?" he asked, vaguely hopeful.

"I doubt it." Her hair tangled with his as she moved her head. "Even though you did a lot of damage, and you all berserker is … was … um…" She coughed and her weapon jangled loudly as she adjusted against him.

Jareth stilled, then partially turned to see the back of her. "I was … _what_?"

"Nothing."

He swore she squeaked the word. A leisurely, predatory grin decorated his face, and he was acutely grateful her back was to him as they stood in mostly dark. If she happened to see his expression, she'd certainly kill him this time.

"I see," he drawled, wondering if Sarah understood his inflection. Her rear-ended head butt to his skull answered his question. "OW!" He turned completely, rubbing the back of his head. "Why'd you do that?"

She'd turned too and jammed her finger into his chest. "You know why, pervert!"

"Per-vert?" he asked in a come-hither voice, head cocked to one side as he continued to massage his scalp. "You wound me." He smirked. "Literally."

Sarah flushed, and his chest exerted more pressure to the tip of her finger as he inched forward. "Tha-that's not what I meant…"

"The meaning of words still troubling you?"

"Stop it," she said softly.

"Why?"

Her eyes darted. "We don't have time, remember?"

_Well of course I remember! _He wanted to snap, surrounded as they were by the stench of dead Vultures, but his crazed libido had other plans once exposed to the rich aroma of human blood and death. Fate must have an ironic sense of timing because the muffled scream repeated, slightly louder, and the teasing air between them vanished.

Whatever fleeting lightheartedness they'd snagged in this ghastly place finally dissipated, and Jareth slapped himself back to the serious business awaiting them. They may have killed the first several dozen savages or more, but the time for celebration lie far off.

_Funny how hormones and an immediate lack of danger tends to make one forget important details like escaping_, he thought, admiring Sarah's gruesome beauty.

"We should find who's making that noise," she said, stepping from him.

"So they can kill or recapture us?" he asked snidely, brow quirked.

"They could be trapped too."

"Or it's a lure."

She hissed over a shoulder. "Or a victim!"

He grabbed her arm, spinning her around. "Are you mad?"

"I have to know!"

"Why?"

"What if…?" She exhaled, then reset her tough expression. "Toby's still here, somewhere."

Jareth loosened his fingers, and his muscles slackened as his shoulders drooped. _Of course, the boy… I'd forgotten. How cruel of me. _

"I have to know," she repeated, pleading, softer, resigned. Her face shined up in hopeful petition.

"You're quite right." He smiled at her, reassuring, but it felt grim.

She responded by leaping into his arms, cheek smashed to his chest as she burrowed under his chin. She didn't say anything; neither did he. But once they parted a moment later, Jareth swore Sarah stepped livelier, and his boots did seem to weigh less as he worked his way over and around the maze of bodies. Too bad, he reflected later, the buoyancy was not to last.

.

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><p><strong>-o-<strong>

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><p><strong>.<br>**

Rarely had Jareth seen horror of this magnitude.

He'd fought in and/or led hundreds of battles and skirmishes in the Underground, so he was used to violence. He thrived on it. The difference, however, between fae and human brutality lie not in the bloodshed, but in the cruelty vs. mercy—both being relative things.

While both races were subject to violent natures, Jareth knew humans could control and suppress their bloodlust on occasion. The fae, unfortunately, were genetically prone to be overtaken by theirs, unable to control it. Hence the Underground's constant skirmishes and wars far beyond those of the Aboveground.

The fae, being an ancient race, had learned to focus and constrain their violence to the battlefield, and mercy to a fallen foe was never willingly offered. But any offence given in a time of peace was dealt with swiftly and harshly. Therefore, violent crimes between fae remained low. Bloodlust was only acceptable during battle or self-defense, never for attack.

The humans, he knew, had never needed to control their violence to the same degree. Therefore, both their mercy and cruelty ran the full gambit. And though he knew it existed, and he'd seen depravity on a small scale, he'd never seen it such as this…

"Jareth!" Sarah whispered. "Help me."

He wanted to aid her, but his limbs rigored as he watched Sarah cut at the ropes of the first prisoner? Victim? Words failed him.

"Jareth! Hurry, more Vultures will be here soon!"

They'd swiftly killed the few guarding the entrance to this place where the scream had originated. Now he stood, frozen, calculating their prize.

Two rows of makeshift cots lined the narrow cavern, and more crude sconces lit the walls, giving just enough illumination. He counted perhaps twenty or more victims, each tied to a cot. They hardly moved within the restricted confines of their bonds. Most didn't appear well nourished enough to be energetic anyway.

He tried wetting his heavy tongue. Everything was dry.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" Sarah asked, her voice barely penetrating the thickening fog.

The moaning, coughing, crying remnants of humanity lie on their backs, wrists and ankles bound to each corner of their beds—spread eagle. Some wore scraps of filthy clothing, but more were naked or nearly so.

His remaining arousal fled in cold shame.

"Where are you going?"

As he walked, numb to all but the horrific sight, Jareth realized not all the victims were women. Some were men, and there were young girls and boys too. Very young in a few cases. Then his senses came back full force, and a tsunami of human stench plowed over him…

…Old and fresh feces and vinegary urine…

...Sickly sweetness of rotten flesh….

…Obsessive musk of fear, stale arousal and the heavy tang of sweat and tears…

"Jareth?" a soft voice asked behind him.

Stumbling forward, he gagged and fell to his knees, palms pressed to the uneven rock floor. His gloves protected him from the worst of the debris and filth, and he curled his fingers inward as his abdominals painfully cramped. Only greenish-yellow bile vomited forth, splashing on the backs of his black leather gloves. It hurt, yet felt oddly relieving, as if his body had purged a poison.

"_Bloody well likely," his Da said. "Accursed animals, bah!" _His Da made a spitting sound.

Sarah's hand caressed his upper back, hesitant, unsure. "Are you okay?"

He didn't bother to look over his shoulder, and snapped, "Do I bloody well look okay?"

She didn't answer, but her hand stilled, which was just as well. With his soul flayed, he didn't know how to deal with caring Sarah. He didn't know how to deal with anything. His skin felt too sizes too small and crisped by magic overuse; he was turned inside out and wrung to pieces. His arms shuddered, holding up his weight, but he dare not move lest he see more of the Vultures' prizes.

But Sarah, she had to speak. Fill the air with her words. "I think they're Empties. I mean before they were … uh … tortured."

"Wh…?" Against his wishes, Jareth sat up onto his heels, gulping hard while his head spun. He kept his hands flat to his thighs for balance, clenching leather to leather. "How can you…"

"Look." She pointed at one who stared at them. "See that blankness."

"But their hardship…"

"No, it's a different kind of gray, Jareth. It's all consuming. There's no room for pain."

He started to ask how she could know such a thing, but he saw a puzzle resolve in Sarah's countenance. She rushed from bed to bed, and he understood. "Toby," he said.

"He's here, Jareth. He has to be." She scrambled from bed to bed, checking each face.

Jareth struggled to his feet, wavering, and reached out with one hand. "You can't know that. He could be anywhere."

"He's here!" Her wild eyes pinned him from three cots away. "Hurry before more Vultures come back!" She pointed to the opposite row as she moved to the next person, and he knew there'd be no deterring her. They'd killed several Vultures to enter this evil place, and if she believed Toby was here, she'd search every inch and kill every Vulture she found. Reconciled, Jareth moved to the closest victim and held his breath.

_Best to be quick about it._

A brush of his hand and the woman's face was revealed beneath her ratty, matted hair. Did he feel relief or disappointment? Hard to know what the thrum of nausea meant. Exhaling, Jareth stepped back and continued to the next cot.

The little girl, younger than Sarah when he had first met her, was listless and unresisting when he examined her. His nausea deepened, becoming sharp. Who would do such things to a child?

"Sarah," he said, not taking his eyes from the little girl.

"Have you found him?" she asked.

"No," he looked up, "have you considered what to do with the rest?" Absentmindedly, his thumb rubbed the girl's forearm just below her restraints.

"Well … I," she glanced around, standing in place, "what can we do?"

"Free them."

"We can't take them with us!"

"We can't leave them here."

"Jareth, I'm only interested in Toby." She moved to his side of the room, expression stern as if she cut herself off from emotion.

"I know." He looked at the child again. "That's part of the problem, Sarah."

"Don't blame this on me!" Her arm sliced the air, pointing at the victims. "I didn't do this!"

"But you can stop it!" He grabbed her shoulders, shaking her. "We can stop this, all of it!"

"What are you talking about?"

"That's what I'd like to know," a new voice calmly asked.

Jareth and Sarah twisted in place. A Vulture stood at the entrance to the cavern, and he held a hostage in front of him. Shadows moved behind him, hinting at numerous henchmen hovering nearby.

"Toby!" Sarah shouted and leaped. Jareth growled, detaining her with one arm across her chest.

"The both of you have caused me quite a bit of trouble," the Vulture said, his forearm tightening around Toby's neck. Her brother whimpered and struggled, and Jareth could see old bruises and swelling over Toby's face and arms.

"What do you want?" Jareth asked in his best politician's voice, firmly holding Sarah behind him. She strained but didn't break his grip.

"I should think it obvious by now," the Vulture's smile was grim as he nodded in Sarah's direction. "I want her."

**-o-**

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><p><strong>The Queen of Water: <strong>Thanks!

** Lily-Beth Bluebell:** Yeah, Sam was sad, which was why he had to be the one to betray Sarah. In my other version, I plan on going deeper into his back story which should make his betrayal even harsher. Things are getting a bit more scary and grimmer as they're in Vulture central. This chapter is more about Sally's implied arc, and what sort of happened to Toby while he was captive. As for Jareth and Sarah's magic... they don't have full control over it yet. **  
><strong>

**Sarah Rose 29: **Awesome, thanks! It was a great chapter to write and it was totally on the fly that I wrote it. I was inspired to write it suddenly which is why it was posted so quickly. But I am rather proud of that last chapter. So I'm glad everyone enjoyed it so much. Sam and Sally, yeah they were doomed from the start.

**Anglewells: **Yep, karma is a bitch. lol! Glad you enjoyed it!

**Autumn O'Shea Swan: **LOL, I know right? I'm typing as fast as I can considering I've got a million projects. Poor Concern has been neglected for months. I do mean to get back to it, but I've been so distracted with everything else lately. And Sarah is starting to come around to Jareth. She's feeling the lurve!

**buffy: **Hehe! Glad you liked! I was inspired to write that last chapter suddenly and posted it as soon as I was done. It worked very well as you said. Lots of angst and lust and fun and battle then aww... then cliffie! Muahaha!It does help to have both their POV during that first major kiss. That's the first time I've devoted a full chapter just on a kiss. It was interesting.

**Hacimanskitsune:** Yep! It was fun writing a whole chapter just on a kiss! Never have done that before. But it was an important kiss. Glad it worked!

**Lady Augustin: **Thanks! It was fun to write too! Jareth accessing her magic is a big clue to how he'll gain back his magic. Duh, :o) And yeah they'd make a hellva team!

**Angelus Draco: **Thanks! Jareth wiping them out was great and loved devoting an entire chapter on a kiss. The best parts are here for me!

**labyrinth-lover: **Thanks! Glad you enjoyed it! Hope you love this one too!

**janeaustenromantic: **Hehe, surprise! I was just inspired to write the last chapter so quick that I had to post it. This one would have been up soon but life got in the way. Glad you like the pacing. I do try to keep things interesting and cliffy but also resolve things each chapter too. Just enough teasers to keep you wanting more.

**Taria Robotnick: **Yeah, it was sad to kill off Sam, but that's why it worked so well, too. Thanks so much! Glad you're loving the story!

**Tausha: **Two months without internet? God how did you survive? LOL! At least you got to read 6 chappies at once though. Thanks! I'm glad the twist got you. I've been dropping hints that something was up with Sam, but not what of course. Hope you keep enjoying it!

**kzal: **Awesome! Glad this story is perfect for you! It is a big different for most readers of Labyfic. So people either love it or not. Fine by me. And yeah... I tend to leave chapters on cliffies.. I'm evil like that. I pace things out to be a certain way and like my chapters to be either resolved or cliffie. About the magic, I totally agree with you. They will not be exhibitionists in this fic, promise. Sarah's past alone wouldn't allow it. Jareth still has to break down her walls before anything truly intimate can happen, therefore their magic will remain locked apart except in small doses. But it will happen.

**Vampiyaa: **LOL, yeah, I have several fics going at the same time, please other projects, but I will finish this. I do try to update at least twice a month. Thanks so much, glad you're loving it! It's been one of my more interesting laby fics. Enjoy!

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><p><strong>AN: I meant to have this chapter out about a week ago, but life got in the way. Threw some migraines at me and back pain and various other scheduling conflicts. Speaking of back, I'll be having a minor back procedure tomorrow which is supposed to fix my back and hopefully eliminate my future need to fuse my vertebrae. So I'll be lying flat for the next few days in recovery, probably writing. **

**For those of you interesting, I've also officially finished my original fiction "Dreams of the Queen" located on fictionpress dot net under jinx1764. I'm also working on its sequel "Nightmare of the Queen". "Dreams" is currently in the final editing and rewrite phase and should be ready for epubbing in the next couple months. Yeah! So that's been hogging some of my time as well. I've also got a new back story created for this fic since I'm converting it to an original (which I had decided to do about two chapters after I started writing it) Lots of cool new characters and ideas and over half of it is nothing like this version.  
><strong>

**I've also challenged myself to learn photoshop and bought a wacom tablet since I want to design professional looking book covers. I've got decent ones now, but I want to take it up a notch and I hate photoshop. I got the tablet yesterday and I will conquer this program!  
><strong>

**As always! Read, Enjoy and Review please!  
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**Jinx  
><strong>


	24. Chapter 24

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><p><strong>Chapter 24<strong>

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"You want what?" Sarah said on the heels of the Vulture's declaration. "Why?"

"Sa-rah," Jareth said, giving her a look of exasperated warning. "Is that germane to our current problem?" He discreetly darted his eyes towards Toby.

"Your boyfriend has a point." The Vulture, the least grimy and best dressed one so far, tightened his arm around Toby's neck until her brother whimpered and clawed. This man eyes gleamed with a feral power, and his fingers twitched on the grip of his sawed-off shotgun. More Vultures, ragged pieces of human shaped creatures, had backed him up, circling around from the rear. More than they'd seen already.

"Don't hurt him!" Sarah lunged, one hand out. Jareth grabbed her shoulders, restraining her.

"So, Sam was right. You're terribly attached to your brother. That makes things easier."

Sarah and Jareth lowered their centers of gravity, their stances becoming more stable as they stood close. "Whatever your plan, you will not succeed," Jareth said.

The Vulture scoffed, tossing his head back. "When I have the upper hand?"

"Do you?" Jareth asked.

"Of course I do. She'll do whatever I want to keep her brother safe." The Vulture glared at Sarah. "Won't you?"

"How dare y—!"

Jareth stepped in front of Sarah, blocking her. "And how long do you think to maintain that power?"

"As you've discovered, I have a talent for coercion."

"You sick bastard!" Sarah said and tried to shove past Jareth as she pointed to the rows of destroyed humanity. His arms slid around her waist, hardly able to hold her. "You did all this!"

"I did, and I'll do that to Toby if you don't cooperate."

"Fucker!"

Only Jareth's restraint held her back, though his anger equaled hers. "I'll never allow it! She'll never be one of your victims!" he said.

"I'll destroy you!" Sarah pulled at Jareth's arms across her waist. Toby struggled harder, growling and kicking his legs backwards at the taller man and thrashing his head. "Toby!" Sarah raised her weapon, frenzied.

Jareth released one arm from her and grabbed the muzzle of her M-16, pushing it down. "Sarah, wait!"

The Vultures' laughter overwhelmed them, making them pause.

"Now that's the Fixer I'm interested in!"

"No." Sarah shook her head as she felt her power buzzing awake. Jareth's remaining arm tightened at her waist, and his panting was harsh in her ear as she clenched her weapon and stared at her brother.

"Sam was short-sighted, using your impressive talents for home repairs. How pointless! When I heard of you, I knew you could be used to create a new order. A new power to rule this pathetic world."

"You're insane if you think I'll hurt people for you!"

"Not for me." The Vulture glanced inward as he choked Toby, who released a strangled groan, then began to flush reddish-purple. "For him."

"Just how long do you think you'll maintain control?" Jareth asked in a clipped voice.

The Vulture squeezed Toby until he squeaked and Sarah lunged again, unable to free herself from Jareth's grip. "As long as I need to," the Vulture said, smirking.

"You can't, you can't!" she said, shaking with rage, her power bubbling up and zapping through her skin. Could she control it? Center it from this far without harming Toby?

"Sarah," Jareth whispered in her ear. "Do not risk Toby as well." She slumped against him, shivering as her power roiled, unreleased.

Time stretched and swelled as Sarah and Jareth glared the few feet separating them from Toby and his captor. His thick, muscular arm a shackle banded around her brother's throat, slowly strangling his air. Sarah counted heartbeats as she stared at her brother, watching his skin flush darker. He wouldn't kill him now, not without her agreement, would he?

Toby… She mouthed his name just as his eyes seemed to catch hers for a second—and understand. He blinked and Sarah's power moved like baby snakes under skin; Jareth's arm shifted against her stomach. Everything slowed until all she sensed was her heartbeat, Jareth's breath puffing in her hair, her power stirring and mixing with Jareth's presence, and then Toby doing something he hadn't done since he was a toddler.

"Sa-rah?" Toby gasped out, and she saw a window of clarity open in his eyes, the fog of his Emptiness lifting away.

"Toby?" she said, awed and uncertain.

The Vulture holding Toby tried to move fast enough, but he no one had ever come back from becoming an Empty, so he hadn't anticipated this variable. Toby's mindless scuffles focused, and simultaneously he bit the Vulture's forearm and his feet found vulnerabilities at the man's knees and groin. It wasn't much, but it was enough to loosen his grip and allow Toby to slip down and away.

The balance of power shifted and the hounds were set loose…

Sarah screamed for her brother, watching him fall to his knees at the Vulture's feet. Jareth released her waist as they both raised their weapons in time with the Vultures. Jareth grabbed her arm and Sarah felt her power race toward him, coalescing, as he muttered some arcane language and threw up hand, fingers spread.

A pulse of power sprang from Sarah, extracting her energy so that her rifle sank and her eyelids drooped at the shock of weariness. Toby scrambled, attempting to jump clear as gunfire was exchanged; his arms flew wide, falling. Sarah and Jareth dodged in one direction, running for Toby, while the Vultures leapt in the opposite. The power wave struck the Vultures, tossing them into the cave wall.

They disintegrated upon contact, becoming dust which drifted and settled.

A sucking silence descended…

"My god … what'd you do?" she asked, panting as she crouched in extreme exhaustion.

"Merely a concentrated blast of magic." Jareth grinned, one brow cocked. "Your magic is wild but not unwieldy once tasted."

"Tasted? Wait," she held up a hand, blushing, "I don't want to know." Sarah stood and took a deep breath. "Where's Toby?" They turned, searching the now dimmer room and found him lying face down several feet away. "Toby!" Sarah rushed to his side, sliding to her knees in the scree and dirt as her weapon clattered from her hands. Jareth quickly followed and helped her roll him to his back.

"No, no, Toby!" Sarah pressed her hands to her brother's upper right chest and shoulder area, covering the ragged hole in his plaid shirt. Fresh blood oozed between her fingers, and Toby groaned, eyes fluttering open.

"Sarah?" Toby said, sounding like a little boy. "What…?" His eyes closed and his head went lax to one side.

"You're going to be okay, Tobes. I won't let anything else happen to you, I swear," she said in a harsh whisper as tears collected on her cheeks.

"Sarah," Jareth said, dragging her attention to him. "We should leave here in case more arrive." Jareth stood, tense, and pivoted, weapon sweeping in arcs.

Sarah nodded as she spoke, "Let me just bandage this first."

"Quickly."

Jareth remained on guard while Sarah stripped off Toby's filthy, crusted shirt and checked his back. The wound went all the way through, a large exit hole just below his shoulder blade, but at least they wouldn't have to worry about a bullet festering. Sarah shed her gear and dug through her backpack for the limited first aid supplies. Toby's ragged breathing caught in his chest like a wet cloth. He certainly had a hole in his lung.

"Sorry, kiddo, I'll fix it up better later," Sarah said before dousing Toby's wound with rubbing alcohol. Toby hissed, groaned and wiggled. "I know, but it'll help clean it." She then sealed but sides with plastic wrap and snuggly wrapped a long sterile bandage over his shoulder and under his arm several times. Blood seeped through, but slowed.

"Okay, Jareth, done for now. Help me lift him."

Jareth slung his M-16 on his shoulder and squatted. "I'll carry him. You keep the way clear."

Sarah frowned for a moment, then nodded. "Alright. Be careful with him."

"Oh, Sarah," he said, grunting as he lifted the semi-conscious Toby up, bridal-style. "Have you forgotten that I much preferred Tobias' company to yours years ago?"

Sarah scowled, then chuckled as she took point to lead them somewhere that wasn't here. "If that's your way of reassuring me…"

Jareth laughed quietly and winked. "I should think you'd be more than reassured by now." His chinned jutted towards the exit. "Shall we?"

Shaking her head, Sarah led them out, looking back regretfully at the victims remaining that they were helpless to aid. "I just hope we can avoid any more Vultures _and_ find a way out."

**.**

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><p><strong>jsjsjsjsjsj<strong>

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><p><strong>.<br>**

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They encountered more Vultures, but in smaller groups, which they were able to either avoid or eliminate as they moved through the caverns. After some time, fewer and fewer Vultures crossed them, traces of living conditions grew sparser and the caves became darker. Sarah finally used her small flashlight, which she had been hesitant to use for fear of any Vultures spying it and following them.

But now…

"I have no idea where we are," Sarah said with a huff, her voice lightly echoing.

Jareth sighed and shifted his stance, causing the loose gravel under his boot to crunch. "In that case, locate a place where we might rest." He hiked Toby, now fully unconscious, higher in his arms.

She turned the narrow column of light onto his face, making him squint. "Tired, Goblin King?"

"Beyond exhausted. We've been walking for hours it seems."

"Mmm…"

"And would you mind calling me by my proper name, not Goblin King."

She shrugged; the light bobbed. "Sure, was just teasing."

"Well, I'd hope we've moved past that, Sarah."

They stared at each other in the reflected light, then Sarah dropped her gaze. "I suppose we have." A few more seconds eased between them. "Wait here; let me see what I can find for a safe spot." Sarah turned and wandered farther off into the barren caverns, taking the light.

Jareth grunted an affirmative and adjusted his stance again to release his aching, cramping muscles. The weakness pervaded every cell, expanding a bit farther every hour. He wondered how much longer his strength might hold out before permanent weakness set in, leading to the end. He wondered if he would ever solve the problem of Sarah being the Nexus before then. With tragic events overtaking them, he'd nearly forgotten his original reason for accidentally finding Sarah Williams.

_Can't lose sight of the prize now, _his da said, cutting through his thoughts.

"I'm not, Da, just been a bit distracted for a bit," he said aloud. Distracted by so many things he had little or no control of. Too bad he was too tired…

Sarah's light swept over his face and he flinched. "Jareth, over here." The light beam moved, directing him forward and left. "I found a sort of niche with a small spring." Jareth hefted Toby again and made his way to Sarah.

They walked, Jareth's boots twisting and slipping over the uneven ground. A muscle pulled in his thigh and his hamstring spasmed. He ground his teeth on the gasp of pain, and Sarah spun in time to help hold Toby as Jareth went to one knee. The flashlight tumbled to the ground, its beam slicing a crazy pattern through the dark.

"Jareth!" she said over Toby as they held her brother between them.

"It's okay, I'm okay…"

"I've got Toby. We're almost there." Sarah eased Toby from Jareth, his arms reluctantly releasing him. Their forearms brushed as their eyes met in the gloom. Sarah smiled half-heartedly. "I've got him, Jareth," she said softly.

He nodded, his hair shimmering for a moment as it floated forward over Toby's torso; his lack of burden left him oddly bereft. What was it about this boy?

"Jareth, you okay?" she asked after she'd stood.

Rubbing his thigh through his leather pants, he looked up at her and his heart lurched at her hovering image haloed by the abandoned flashlight behind her. His avenging angel exuding mingled concern and pain with her never-ending strength. Inhaling carefully, he stood, favoring his stronger leg with on hand splayed over the cramp.

"Lead on," he said brusquely, uncertain emotions swirling in his chest.

"Follow me," she said with a wry smile and furrowing of her brow, then turned and cautiously picked her path while Jareth scooped up the light. Several minutes passed, their heavy breathing echoing in the cramped area, before Sarah announced their arrival to the faint sounds of running water.

He couldn't see the spring, but he could smell the fresh water bubbling up from the rocks. There must be numerous such springs throughout the caves. What were the odds of them find one?

_Astronomical._

So why now? What does that mean?

_You tell me, Jareth._

There are too many variables. How can I…? Gods…

_Exactly…_

**.**_  
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><p><strong>The Queen of the Water: <strong>Thanks!

**Lily-Beth Bluebell: **LOL, thanks! Hope school is going well. The suspense is slowing and changing a bit, but there's still more.

**Angelwells: **Awesome, thanks! I like writing berserker!Jareth. :o)

**Vamipyaa: **Cool that you love apocalyptic and berserker!Jareth. Thanks for the wonderful compliments; it's always great to know others enjoy my work. And reviews are the quickest way to know. Hope you enjoy this chapter.

**Sarah Rose 29: **Here ya go! Sorry for the wait.

**Taria Robotnik: **Muahahaha! Sarah didn't die... but something else happened! Now what?

**Autumn O'Shea Swan: **I know... so evil. I was a big cliffie. This one isn't as big, but it leads into more things. Surgery went great btw. My back feels awesome. Not 100% (I'm not 20 anymore) but my pain is nearly gone most everyday, unless I overwork it. I'd say that's a win. Thanks!

**mynagoldenwings: **Thanks! Glad you like it. Hope you like this one too.

**DianaDarkShadow: **Thanks so much! Glad you're enjoying it. It's definitely different for Laby. fanfic.

**FeyFaerie: **I don't have plans for a sequel to this at this time, but I do have plans to convert it into an original fiction, which I'd have to post on fictionpress.

**Angelus Draco: **Thanks! LOL, you know it... but I hope I was able to toss a bit of a surprise in there for you.

**Lady Augustin: **Woohoo! Love that! I suppose my ability to write gore/violence/bloodshed stems from my years as a medic. Nothing like living it to be able to write it. I wouldn't think you were crazy to say you're digging berserker! Jareth. I dig him too. *Meeeooow* Oh, no, Jareth would never hand Sarah over, and Sarah would never hand Toby over... so that was the set up for this chapter. Hope you enjoyed.

**Her Royal Goddess: **Awesome! Love to know my writing is that engrossing that you read it in one sitting. Big compliment! Hope you enjoy this latest chapter too! Thanks!

**Cogito-Ergo-Oops: **Thanks! Always love to hear that! Enjoy!

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><p><strong>AN: Sorry for the longer wait on this chapter, got a bit distracted by my other fic "Concern", work and the Labyrinth Exchange fic which, some time early next year, will have several new one-shot fics from several of our long-term Laby fandom writers. We received our prompts a few weeks ago and I've already finished one short fic and am working on the longer one, which y'all will get to read in a few months once the exchange finishes. Woohoo! **

**Hope y'all enjoyed this latest chapter. Things are getting interesting in a different direction now, but there's still more to come! And smut!  
><strong>

**Enjoy, read and please review!  
><strong>

**Jinx  
><strong>


	25. Chapter 25

**A/N: This is a long chapter (not that you'll complain) and though it's super fun (woohoo) it's also very important to the story on multiple levels. Have fun... teehee... **

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><p><strong>Chapter 25<strong>

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Sarah woke to the sounds of Toby's incoherent muttering and Jareth's light snoring. Toby sounded like he usually sounded—the mindless ramblings of an Empty. But that was over, wasn't it?

Disoriented, she blinked several times into the oppressive darkness until she remembered they were in the caves, and she'd turned off her flashlight when they'd laid down to rest after drinking their full of water. They'd obviously fallen asleep regardless of the danger, not that she was surprised really. After the adrenalin and subsequent energy drain from Jareth's magic blast, she'd hardly been able to keep her eyes open. She had been able to see how tired Jareth was, though he attempted to hide it. But even in the poor lighting, his usually pale complexion had been nearly translucent.

And then there was Toby…

What had happened? How did he suddenly know her after so long suffering as an Empty? Her heart sped up with fresh hope. Could this be permanent? Sarah listened in the dark to Jareth's breathing and wondered…

Jareth had been touching her the entire time of Toby's capture, but then Toby fell unconscious after his injury. Would he even be able to speak properly once he woke? He was only a few years old when it happened, after all. Where ever his mind had gone, no one had been able to teach him the most basic things.

"Oh, Toby," she whispered to the uncaring blackness. "What's happening?" She fumbled for him in the dark, found his thin arm to her right and curled her fingers around it. He felt too warm, and she worried further. Was that earlier miracle a onetime event? So many questions for her non-existent answers, but she'd found him. Against the odds, she'd found her brother.

"Toby," she said, shoving at him gently as she sat up. He grumbled and swatted at her, but didn't wake up or become violent or ignore her as he usually would have. She smiled in spite of herself at his irritation. That was boring and ordinary and absolutely wonderful.

Now what?

Her stomach decided, growling its displeasure. She couldn't risk a fire, even if she'd had the kindling to start one, but cold rations from her pack would do for now. Sarah released her hold on Toby and found the flashlight where she'd stashed it in her jacket pocket. Using it, she rummaged in her backpack, previously her pillow, for any remaining food. Few items lay hidden at the bottom, enough perhaps to get them home—hungry but alive—if they discovered the way out soon.

"Sarah?"

She faced the owner of the gravelly voice. Jareth shielded his eyes with one hand as he rolled to his side. "Hungry?" she asked, handing him a small bag of jerky.

"Ravenous." He accepted it eagerly and popped several small pieces into his mouth. "Thank you."

"You're welcome."

He nodded towards her brother within their tiny circle of light. "How is he?"

"Better, I think as far as his mind, but he feels too warm."

"Is that bad?"

Sarah rubbed one of her eyes, leaning her head forward. "Maybe, don't you know about infections?"

Jareth shrugged and shook his head. "Mortal physiology never concerned me."

"Fae don't get fevers?"

"Not by infectious causes."

"How convenient, must be nice."

Jareth's smirk was half-hearted around his yawn. "Sarah, dear, don't be jealous."

She glared at him for a moment, then sighed. "Are you as tired as I am?"

He examined his fingernails, refusing to meet her gaze. "Whatever do you mean?"

Kneeling, she scooted closer until her knees touched his thighs. "Don't play games, Jareth. You know exactly what I'm talking about."

His Adam's apple bobbed, and he finally looked up. "The magic I drew from you."

"Yeah."

"I thought you didn't want to know."

"I changed my mind." His brows rose, questioning, sarcastic. "What? Woman's prerogative."

He chuckled and sat up, dusting off his shirt. "If you say so."

Sarah glared at him defiantly. "I do say so." She motioned between them. "What happened between us? To Toby?"

"The mechanics of the process was simple enough, as I stated before, once I tasted your wild magic it was simple for me to draw it forth from merely touching you."

"Okay…"

"Unfortunately, your magic is," his mouth twisted and he see-sawed a hand, "foreign to mine, difficult for me to use and especially…"

"Draining?"

"Energy consuming," he said with quick drop of his eyes.

Sarah waited but he didn't elaborate. "I see, and Toby?"

Jareth leaned to look past Sarah at her sleeping brother. "That…" He curled a gloved finger at his lips, and Sarah inhaled sharply at the spike of heat lancing through her. Jareth paused, his eyes catching hers, and cocked his head as he said in a clipped tone, "I have a theory, but I suspect you won't like it."

"I… I want to know everything."

Warily, he reached out with the hand from his mouth until his fingertips barely caressed her cheek. "Do you?" Trembling, Sarah nodded. Jareth's thumb brushed her lower lip as he shifted his body forward. "Are you certain?"

"Yes," she said with tingling lips against the comforting warmth of his leather. Why was it so hot suddenly? She itched inside her clothes and they felt too tight and confining.

Jareth dropped his gaze to her mouth, his thumb continuing to circle the sensitive skin. "Some things, Sarah, once begun, cannot be undone," he said in a husky growl, leaning closer.

She tilted her head up, refusing to back away as their noses almost touched. "I know that better than anyone, Jareth."

His hand moved from her cheek to the nape of her neck. "Hmm … I dare say you do."

Initially, Sarah thought she might panic when Jareth's hand slid around and held her head firmly in place, but that spike of heat returned and pooled in her gut, sending out hot sparks. Her breathing became shallow, and she waited for something, anything to happen. Why wasn't he moving? Wasn't he supposed to? This intimacy was strangling her with anticipation, so Sarah adjusted her body weight forward slightly. The tip of their noses brushed, making her skin prickle and her mouth dry.

"Jareth…" she whispered, uncertain and straining for something indefinable that danced just beyond her range. His breath winged across her lips, teasing. Was he torturing her now? Her entire body quivered, kneeling forward. She'd never willingly moved this close to a man before, and Sarah didn't know how to…

"Please … help me understand," she said as she laid a hand on his upper arm, hesitant and shaking. He felt slim and wiry, but she knew it concealed a great deal of strength. Something about touching him spurred her new found heat onwards, made it real; she clenched his shirt in her fist, tugging him.

"Gods, Sarah." He finished the last centimeters for her, pressing his dry lips to hers as he angled his head farther, his hand clasping the back of her neck tauter. She moaned and shuddered as he pulled her to him bodily and he fell back to the ground. Sarah sprawled atop Jareth as his arms encaged her, hand buried in her hair and the other bunching her jacket at the small of her back. When Jareth's tongue quested at the seam of her lips, Sarah opened for him and groaned at the clenching low in her abdomen. His deep moan vibrated through her tongue and down her chest, pressed firmly to his.

Lightheaded and growing too hot, Sarah realized this is what lust must feel like. What the girls spoke of in whispers and giggles and the boys told raunchy jokes about. This is what she'd been feeling for Jareth, perhaps as far back as her Labyrinth adventure. How could she have mistaken it for anything else? This blinding heat, this searing pleasure…

She'd always thought the odd flip in her stomach in Jareth's presence was due to annoyance; then later, after the Shift, things were so muddled and wrong, she could never figure out what was supposed to feel like what. And the thought of any boy or man near her gave her panic attacks or violent attacks on them. Maybe she'd always been attracted to him and never understood it because she'd been too young. Maybe so many things could've been different…

"Stop thinking so hard," Jareth said in her ear just before he drew the lobe into his mouth, sending another sharp stab of pleasure to her gut.

"I can't help it. I think … maybe … I've been wrong about a lot of things."

Jareth grunted neutrally. "Haven't we all. Perhaps I can help." He flipped them over, using one arm to support his weight and cradle her head.

She tensed. "W-what you doing?"

"Relaxing you, Sarah."

Her hands flattened on his chest as she pushed. "I don't think this is a good idea…"

"Sarah," he said calmly, stilling her movements. "Do you trust me?"

"Ah…" She grimaced. He waited. "Yes?"

"Mmm, not very encouraging, though it will have to do." Jareth flattened his body flush to Sarah's, molding his lips to hers as she tensed harder. "Please," he said between one-sided kisses and her whimpers. "You can trust me, Sarah. I will not harm you." Jareth pulled back until they were eye to eye.

"We're seriously off topic here. What does this have to do with Toby?"

"Everything, my love."

"You said you had a theory."

"I do."

"Then explain."

"I am, though this is more of a … demonstration."

"You'd better not be lying."

Jareth leaned back in, kissing her neck and clavicle. "Trust me."

Nodding jerkily, she said in a harsh whisper, "Okay."

"In that case we should remove ourselves a bit from Tobias." He sat back on his hunches to her side and held out a hand to assist her.

After a moment, Sarah accepted his help as she grabbed the flashlight. "Alright, but not too far, in case he wakes."

Jareth chuckled and said in her ear, "My dear, that's exactly why we're moving."

Sarah shivered, but didn't withdraw her hand from his as he led her several feet distant before they resumed their same positions. Sarah remained tense and anxious lying on the ground with him hovering over and to her side in the dim light of the small flashlight.

"Are you sure about this?" she asked.

"Sarah, I've never be more certain of anything in my life. We need to do this, and I promise you'll understand why."

She inhaled, then exhaled as Jareth shed his gloves and immediately commenced to kiss any exposed skin of her neck and gradually freed more by slipping her jacket open while his body lay partially across her. He never truly trapped her, but she could feel his masculine weight pressing and moving over and into her legs and torso.

At first, Sarah laid still and allowed Jareth to do what he wanted to prove … whatever it was relating to Toby's cure. She breathed slowly and kept her mind blank of anything but Jareth and the sensations he created, never allowing stray memories of that day to seep in. But the initial lust had cooled, and she doubted it would return until she felt Jareth's fingers touch a particularly sensitive area.

"Uhh…" She arched her back and gasped.

"Did you like that?" he asked, head buried in her neck.

"Uh-huh."

"Would you like me to do it again?" he asked in a drawl.

"Y-yes."

"Mmm, my beautiful Sarah, you're coming back to yourself." Jareth rubbed his fingers over her breast again, making sure to add pressure to the stiff peak announcing itself through Sarah's bra and t-shirt. She moaned and arched closer to his hand, so he flicked it. She jumped and finally brought her arms up from where she'd kept them flat on the ground and gripped his shoulders.

"Would you like more?" he asked.

"Yes!"

Jareth kissed her, hard, as he moved his hand to the bottom of her shirt and edged his way beneath it. His bare skin on hers crept upward, drawing the shirt with it, until he found his goal. When Sarah felt his fingers pull down her bra and caress her sensitive flesh, she nearly cried out, then his mouth followed, tugging and sucking, and she did.

Instantly, she shoved a hand in her mouth and bit down to stifle her cries. Toby still lay unconscious nearby. A flash of guilt hit her. Should they… "J-ja-reth." She ran her fingers in his hair as he looked up from her chest with an evil glint in his eyes, easy to discern even in the low light.

"Yes?"

"Toby, what if we wake him?"

"Then we'll be quiet like eye-moss."

"Like wh-oh nevermind…" She let her head fall back as he continued to create jolts of lust and heat from her breasts to her groin. She kept her fingers threaded in his hair, massaging and wrenching. Soon her mind fogged, and her magic hummed as she forgot everything prior to this point. No Vultures had followed them; no danger seemed close. It felt good to finally let her guard down. Ironic that it would be with Jareth.

"That's it, Sarah. Free yourself."

Jareth's moans eventually echoed hers, and a gradually thrusting of his hips into hers joined his hands and mouth. Sarah knew this should upset her (it would've in the past) but this was Jareth and the motion, with the obvious hardness pressed into her thigh, stirred her lust deeper. Her magic swirled inside like a whirlpool, faster and faster. Perhaps she did trust him after all.

"Oh God, Jareth…" She pulled him up for a real kiss, which he bestowed fervently.

"Sarah … Sarah…"

"It feels so good."

"It's supposed too," he murmured against her lips. "I can make it feel even better."

"Yeah?"

"I want to make you feel wonderful." He slid a hand down to her waistband and fiddled with the button. "May I?" Tongue thick, Sarah was torn between agreeing and stopping him. What would he do? "I promise I won't hurt you," he said.

"Alright," she squeaked.

Jareth kissed her again, distracting her as he worked her button lose and unzipped her jeans. She gasped into his mouth when his fingers skimmed inside her panties and trailed over her mound. Gently, he teased where she clenched her thighs.

"Sarah," he drawled, kissing her cheek and neck. "Relax…"

"I'm … scared." Her nails dug into his shoulders through his shirt.

"I know, love." He curled his fingers, sweeping lightly over her delicate skin. "Please let me in."

Taking a deep breath, Sarah loosened her muscles and relaxed enough to permit Jareth to lower his fingers between her legs. Her expectation of pain never materialized; instead Jareth stroked her until his fingers dipped into a well of moisture she didn't realize existed. Involuntarily, she moaned and clutched at him, her hips bucking when his fingers grazed a highly sensitized nub of flesh.

"What is ... Jareth?"

"Shh…" he breathed between kisses. "I can feel your magic strengthening. Let it happen, Sarah."

Her power built quickly along with the pulses of pleasure as his fingers circled faster and his hips thrust harder. Panting, Sarah closed her eyes and gave herself to the warm waves drowning her. Jareth's breathing huffed in her ear, and she felt his connection to her power increase as his control wavered. Like a cord stretched taut between them, the magic thrummed with unrealized potential, and she caught glimpses of his emotions—lust, worry, fear, anger, compassion and…

"Great Danu," he moaned, gliding one long finger inside of her, shocking her eyes open. She turned her head to face him, and their eyes held, inches apart. She saw a question in his mismatched gaze; he'd stilled his hand, waiting.

She kissed him, hard and hugged him. "Don't stop … please…"

He smiled, brightening his face and restarted the motion of his hand, thumb now caressing and finger thrusting, harder and faster until Sarah felt waves tripping over each to create a bubble ready to burst. Digging her nails into his biceps, she arched her back and rocked her hips with his rhythm, striving for something she'd heard rumors and gossips about, but never known.

"Yes, love, let go for me!"

"Jareth!"

A burst of color erupted behind her closed eyelids as she squeezed them tight when the bubble exploded. Warmth flooded her body the same time every muscle spasmed, released, spasmed, then released her into limpness. Her skin glowed white as her magic flared, engulfing Jareth and even Toby for a few seconds before settling down and fading out.

They both lie calm and motionless, tangled together in the dark illuminated only by Sarah's flashlight and punctuated by Toby's even breathing several feet away, his muttering having suddenly ceased. Jareth drew both hands around her and rolled them over so Sarah lay partially on him, her head pillowed on his chest.

"Was that … did I … I mean…"

Petting her hair as they caught their breaths, Jareth said, "Yes, love, you did."

"Oh. Wow. I've never…"

"I thought as much."

Sarah rested her chin on his chest, cushioned by her hand and gazed at him. "Thank you. God that sounds lame."

Reaching out, he cupped her cheek. "Not at all. You're welcome."

"But what about … you know … you?"

Jareth chuckled as if at complete ease and folded one arm under his head. "Time enough for that later."

"Oh, okay." She laid her head back down on his chest. "You never answered my question, by the way."

Jareth tightened an arm around her waist. "Oh but I did, love. That afterglow of yours wasn't just because of your orgasm." He laughed. "Well it was, but not only because of it."

She looked at him again, brow furrowing. "You mean, my power and your ability to wield magic equals a sort of ... fix?" She gulped.

Jareth smirked. "After a fashion. I suspect Tobias has gained an early benefit from his proximity to us and perhaps his relation to you. It's so obvious now, isn't it? Me—Keeper of the Bridge and sorcerer. You—The Nexus and your world's only source of magic. It's the oldest spell in the book, Sarah love. Sex magic."

"Oh God," she whimpered, tucking further into Jareth's side as he laughed again and held her tighter.

But somehow it didn't surprise her. Her entire life, since meeting Jareth, seemed to be drawing her back to him. Recalling the last years, it felt inevitable that this could end any differently. She would have to have sex with Jareth to save the world. If he would've told her this a few weeks ago, she would've punched first and cussed later. But now…

Her lips, hidden from his view, twitched upwards at the corners.

Now the prospect didn't seem so awful anymore.

Damn Sexy Goblin Kings.

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><p><strong>The Queen of Water: <strong>Awesome thanks! I wrote this one fast!

**Buffy: **Ah, don't say that! It's only been a couple of months since I updated this one... *sniff* you forgetting already? (though I'm about to update 'Of Men and Magic' which you might like to know I plan have have some M/M/F action. My first time with that. Don't know if that's something you'll like or not. :o) for some reason the story just wants to go that way. Don't ask me. As for the end part of 'Falling' I'm hinting around that there's a bit of the gods/destiny messing with them. That's an aspect that I will be using much more in my original version. Not Deus ex machina so much as gods are watching and answering prayers.

**Lily-Beth Bluebell: **Thanks! Glad it was worth the wait. Last chapter was slower for me to write for some reason. Sometimes transition chapters can be that way. Well, they're not all okay, exactly. Jareth's weakness is accelerating (he's only been there a week +) but tapping into Sarah's magic the way he has is the 'wrong way to do it' but Sarah is losing control because of Jareth's presence. They're like two reverse magnet poles. Repel or attract.

**Autumn O'Shea Swan: **smutsmutsmutsmut... whoohoo! Just the first slice of it. Hope you enjoyed it!

**Sarah Rose 29: **He's sort of back. He's injured and he's healing. Thanks!

**Angelwells: **Thanks! They did get away, though they're both weakening and Toby is seriously injured and they're lost and have little food and water.

**kzal: **As per our chat... I tried to not make it seem too easy and yet the magic is still able to be used, but with a high cost. As Jareth is/will discover. Toby is 'sort of' back because he's in their personal bubble of 'fixable magic' but since they haven't actually completed the spell and fixed the worlds yet... his cure isn't complete. As I plan on demonstrating further. It's not what Sarah or Jareth did so much as what they are and what they are together.

**Lady Augustin: **You're welcome! Sorry this one was delayed. Got caught up with several things, other writing and such, but finally could get back to it. Two months goes quick, doesn't it? I'm glad you liked the last chapter; it was a bit of a mixed bag. But this one (though critical with info) is more fun!

**Senshi at Heart: **Thanks! Glad you're enjoying it! It's been a blast to write.

**labyrinth-lover: **Thanks so much! Always wonderful to hear from you! :o) Of course, this last chapter is a bit *cough* higher rated *cough*

**Vampiyaa: **Awesome! Thanks! Basically he's not, but there's some fine print to it yet, which I'll be illustrating soon.

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><p><strong>AN: This chapter (which I've been dying to get to) flowed a lot quicker than the last few. I knew what I wanted to write, but some of the last chapters didn't flow as easily. It happens. But now were really getting into the fun stuff, not just the exciting stuff. They're still lost, nearly out of food, Toby is severely injured (and his cure comes with fine print to yet be explained) and Jareth didn't quite realized how much he's cost himself by using Sarah's magic 'inappropriately'. Chickens will be coming home to roost. They haven't saved the world yet, and Sarah still has to fully get past her trust issues and willingness to 'do it' with him. But you know me... there's more to it then that. Muahahahahaha! More smut on the horizon. **

**I always love hearing comments and reviews.  
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**Was this longer, smut chapter enjoyable?  
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**Jinx  
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	26. Chapter 26

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><p><strong>Chapter 26<strong>

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Jareth kept his arm snug around Sarah, holding her against his chest until he heard her breathing even out and slow. He smiled. Sleep would be divine but, given the circumstances a short while ago, he was far too keyed up to grab more kip. Adrenaline raced through his veins, making his heart pound and his senses hyperaware regardless of how he forced his breathing to ease. Aftershocks continued to zap through his torso, parts of his anatomy throbbed and Sarah's gentle shifting of her hips into his… Jareth inhaled cautiously, teeth grinding. She would torture now. But he couldn't—wouldn't—loosen his grip, and his fingers spasmed reflexively, digging into the muscles of her arm.

While this position was mildly challenging to his peace of mind, he appreciated being awake while Sarah slept. Otherwise, he realized in retrospect, he wouldn't have heard the scrambling, which jumped his adrenalin from medium hum to full buzz. "Sarah." He shook her sharply.

"Wha-?" She jerked upright, using her hands on his chest to support her upper body.

He sat up with her, throwing a comforting arm around her shoulders. "Shh, I'm here." Her breathing hitched in the dark, and she relaxed into him. The scent of her surrounded him as he part her hair with his nose.

"What's wrong?" she asked.

"There's someone approaching. Listen." Their heartbeats thrummed between them as they waited.

"I don't hear anything," she said, her fingers gripping his shirt as her spine straightened.

"Vultures."

"You can hear them?"

He nodded, remembering his fae hearing was more acute than hers. "Yes, they're not close yet, but we should hurry nonetheless."

"Agreed." Sarah shuffled about, then her flashlight clicked on. "I'll see if I can wake Toby. You get our things."

"Alright."

They worked their way back to Toby, and Sarah knelt by her brother, her hands hovering over his forehead with nervous expectation. Jareth gathered their belongings as he watched and listened.

"Toby? She clutched his arm, rolling him from his side to his back. "Toby?"  
>Arms failing—"Sarah? What… Where?"<p>

"It's okay, kiddo," she said and Jareth heard the joy in her quiet voice as she helped him sit. "How do you feel?" Toby held his head and blinked repeatedly in her narrow beam of light as his mouth worked to form words. Sarah turned and looked at Jareth. "He's still too warm."

Jareth set the gear down and squatted next to her. "And he appears to be in great pain."

"Toby, can you understand me?" she asked.

Watery eyes stared back, then he nodded carefully, as if the motion hurt.

"Can you tell me how you're feeling?" Toby grimaced and grunted, his eyes pleading to explain until Sarah patted his forearm. "It's okay." Toby's shoulders dropped and his trembling muscles relaxed.

"Interesting," Jareth said, "it seems my assumption may be correct."

"Do you think he'll continue to improve?"

"Possibly, but we haven't the time speculate." Jareth held out a hand to Toby. "Can you walk?"

Toby's hand shook as he gave it to Jareth, who enclosed his larger one around the teen's, then gently guided Toby to his feet. Stumbling, Toby was caught and steadied by Jareth.

"Can you manage him?" Sarah asked Jareth as she rubbed Toby's back.

"I'll have to."

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Jareth's 'have to' became a test of his endurance as the three of them struggled through the dark maze of the underground caverns. The scuffling behind them varied in its intensity, occasionally fading then rearing back stronger until even she could hear it. Sarah's heart raced every time, yet they never saw any Vultures. They never found an exit either.

"Wait," Jareth said, "I need to … rest." Both he and Toby staggered and fell to their knees before Sarah could catch them. Toby moaned, cried out, then curled into a ball on his side and shivered.

Sarah knelt next to her brother, laying a hand on his forehead. "He's burning up!"

Jareth nodded, panting. "I felt that."

"Do you think he's getting worse?"

"Don't know." Jareth take a deep breath and sat back on his heels, his hands resting on his thighs. "It's possibly part of the healing process."

"When will we know?"

"We'll have to wait it out I'm afraid."

Frowning, Sarah wiped her brother's damp bangs from his eyes. Toby moaned and squirmed, batting at her hand. "You don't know how long?"

"Sarah," he sighed, "this is an unusual situation for me as well."

"Right. Sorry."

"No matter. I know how worried you must be, but for now we need to focus on discovering a way out." He looked back where they had come, his profile highlighted by the flashlight.

Turning from him, Sarah scanned the light over the caverns, hoping she might find indications of an exit. But only more rock, dirt and a continuation of the narrowing path, which look to go deeper into the mountain. Where did it end? Did it?

"We can't go on like this," she said.

From behind her, Jareth's hand slid over her shoulders causing her to jump. "We'll figure what lies between us in time, love," he said, his hand squeezing her shoulder as he pulled her against him.

"Figure what out?" She shined the light into his face and he blinked and squinted.

"Um, the…" His Adam's apple bobbed. "The situation that we talked about earlier."

"Oh… OH!" Sarah dropped the light from his face, laughing. "I wasn't talking about that."

"You weren't?"

"No." She arced her free arm around in a half circle. "I meant this. We can't go on wandering and hoping to find a way out. Sooner or later they'll find us and then what?"

"Ah," he said, head drooping to his chest.

"I didn't mean it like that." She set the flashlight on the ground, shifted to kneel in front of him, and then laid her hands on his chest.

He covered her hands with his. "It's fine. I understand."

"I do want to sort out what's between us, too, but…"

"You're absolutely correct, love." He caressed her hands as he smiled. "Now is not the time to discuss such things."

"If only…"

"If only what?"

Sarah leaned forward, resting her chin on his shoulder, and Jareth wrapped his arms around her. "If only things had been different earlier." She watched Toby over Jareth's shoulder. Her brother rolled onto his back with a groan, arms flailing. He looked to be in pain, and Sarah closed her eyes to block out his suffering for a moment. It felt good to rest against Jareth, to allow him to take her physical and emotional weight. Even if it was only temporary.

"Things can still be different, love. It's not too late."

Toby's moans grew louder prompting Sarah to open her eyes. "How can you be sure?"

Jareth's hands rubbed her back sending tendrils of calm through her muscles. "Because I have faith."

"In what?"

"In us."

She pulled back to meet his eyes. "You're serious."

He cupped her chin lightly. "Of course. You think I tell women such things every day?"

"I wouldn't know," she said as Toby cried out and thrashed so violently that loose stones went skittering into the dark to ping and plunk. His shouting echoed through the cavern, and Sarah and Jareth sprang to restrain and comfort him. Unfortunately, Toby slipped from their grasp and, with a horrid scream, ran from them back towards the Vultures.

"Toby, no!" Sarah lunged and missed his leg as he gained his footing. Without pause, she grabbed the flashlight and ran after him with Jareth immediately after her, weapons in hand.

They quickly lost sight of him in the dark, but they could hear his crying and wailing as he ran back the way they'd come. How far behind were the Vultures? How well did sound travel? Sarah's heart climbed into her throat as they raced to catch her brother before the worse happened. Already she was exhausted, hungry and beyond thirsty. How much longer could this last?

"Toby!" she whispered as she ran, hoping he might answer with his last shred of sanity, or maybe he'd stop once he remembered. "Toby, please!" She heard Jareth behind her, not far; he sounded no better than her. His ragged panting made her hurt in sympathy. He'd looked weak as they'd spoken. Weak with something she didn't understand. There was a lack of spark in his eyes that she'd recently noticed. She wanted to ask, but there was too much yet unsorted between them and she felt it was prying.

"Sarah, watch out!" Jareth shouted, and she slid trying to stop before tripping over her brother who lay in a ball on the ground. Air exploded from her lungs taking her yell of surprise as she landed face first onto the jagged rocks. Dizziness and nausea swamped her, overwhelming the sharp pain radiating from her nose to her brain. Warm fluid gushed from her nose, and she vaguely realized it must be blood.

"Sarah!" Jareth's blurry form gently turned her onto her back and untangled her legs from Toby. Her brother!

"Toby…" she said in a croak, trying to lift her head.

"Don't move, I'll check."

Jareth left her view and she stared into the darkness. The flashlight was out or gone or broken. She fished her hands out, but found only dirt and rocks. Rocks dug into her cheekbone, but she didn't dare move her head from its position. Pain increased and replaced the dizziness and made the nausea far worse. And the blood, it poured from her nose to puddle on the ground. She could taste it as it dribbled over her lips.

"Well, lookie what we have here." Sarah's stomach almost revolted at the new voice emerging from the dark. Flittering light for numerous torches lit up the area a moment later. "I wondered if we'd ever catch up with you three. Looks like you did the work for us." The Vulture laughed and must've given some signal that Sarah couldn't see because the footsteps and rattling of more people was loud near her. Soon she could see from the corner of her eye that they were surrounded by Vultures, all with weapons pointed at them.

Jareth's hand found hers and, chancing the pain and nausea, she delicately moved her head to see him. He squatted between her and Toby, a hand on both of them and he had an expression of resigned fatalism. She understood the sentiment. He glanced at her and his lips twitched as he was trying to smile. This was their last chance, their final battle. Whatever occurred here would decide their fates and he was accepting it. His fingers tightened around hers. She squeezed back.

Jareth focused on the Vulture leader. "You think you've beaten us?"

The leader laughed again as he slung his weapon over his shoulder. "I think your escape is over and the fun is about to start. Right, boys?" he asked, glancing around to his men. Whoops and hollers bounced in the cavern, and Sarah decided she'd rather die by her hand than suffer one minute in captivity with these Vultures. She'd take Jareth and Toby with her. She was certain they felt the same.

Teeth chattering in pain and shock, she clenched Jareth's hand and said, "Fun … it … is then," and released her power. She opened herself to every pulse and trickle she could find, uncaring what happened to the three of them as long as every Vulture fried. Power blasted from her in hot waves. Every time it pummeled someone she felt it. She felt each bit of rock. The mountain shook and groaned. Vultures screamed as a pulverizing flash consumed them.

And still Sarah poured herself into more surges. Nothing could be allowed to survive. Nothing could be allowed to stand. Her shriek joined Jareth's and Toby's as they were battered and punished by the scorching heat. Molten rock pooled around them.

Gritting her teeth, Sarah felt the well of power coming to an end along with her strength and hoped her death would be quick. She hoped Toby wouldn't suffer, nor Jareth. She hoped for many unspoken things, here, at the end.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, barely able to feel Jareth's hand in hers as she searched out his beautiful, unique eyes. His fingers twitched and he mouthed three words around the blood trailing from his lips.

Her power receded and a peace settled over her.

_I must be dying, _she thought as she saw a glimmer of sunlight and inhaled the sweet scent of fresh air. _Thank you…_she told whatever god that was granting her this gift before she lost consciousness and nothingness took her.

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><p><strong>Buffy: <strong>Woohoo! Glad you loved the last chapter! Sometimes I don't always know how I can make things believable either. I guess being a panster makes it easier because I just go with it as I work it all back together. Jareth does tend to make things complicated. My original version of Falling has a different take on the dark, sexy version of fae king. It's coming together nicely. I'm writing tons of new original chapters. And the M/M/F story, I'm hoping to get back to that soon. I've got so many ideas in my head, have to write faster! Thanks!

**The Queen of the Water: **Thanks!

**Taria Robotnik: **Thanks! Yes indeed, praise the Labyrinth!

**Labyrinth Addict: **Awesome, glad you enjoyed it! It was sexy fun to write!

**Angelwells: **Woohoo! Yes! It's always fun to write smut, even a little bit and there were some answers, more coming soon!

**Senshi at Heart: **Yep! Sex Magic, the oldest kind of magic. Glad it's so addictive, just like GK!

**Lily-Beth Bluebell: **Yeah, I'm usually writing on something almost everyday but it changes from fanfic to my originals. Awesome that you loved it, there's more to come and more torture but more good stuff too!

**Labyrinth lover: **Thank you! Glad you enjoyed! It was only 25 chapters in the making, right?

**Autumn O'Shea Swan: **LOL, not long enough. I hear ya. Well, they are running for their lives. Have to keep it believable.

**Vampiyaa: **I know right! It took 25 chapters to warm up to this. Whoo! Soo long to get to this point. I think I've writing this for over a year now. You're welcome!

**Lady Augustin: **You're welcome! Glad the smexy smut was good for you. It was good for me too! :o)

**moonwatching2knight: **the underground isn't something they can get to soon because magic isn't working and the nexus isn't fixed yet. Glad you're enjoying it so far though!

**Angelus Draco: **Thanks! This was another cliffy cause, as you know, I'm evil like that. But it's all for a good cause.

**Banannoram: **It's all good. I know what you mean about life happening. Glad you're back and enjoying the story. Things are coming to a wrap up soon, not very soon, but soon.

**LuPT: **Thanks, sorry it took so long!

**janeaustenromantic: **LOL, I know. I had to make it character and plot believable but I was ready for it too. Glad you liked! Things still are happening yet!

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><p><strong>AN: Sorry it took so long. Life has been stressful. My job has been taking a lot of my time lately and not in a good way. Lots of sleep deprivation and other things I'm not going into here. Personal things have been on the negative side and my grandparents died this month, both in the same week. They were married 70 years. So my family has been under a lot of stress and time to write has been limited and my mind has been distracted. Plus, that's not including the time I'm still devoting to my original fiction, as I have about a half a dozen projects I'm working on. Two novels I'd like to publish later this year. Things seem to be calming down this week though and I was able to focus on some fanfiction. I've also got two fanfic shorts that I'll be posting in a few weeks after the Labyrinth Gift fic exchange is finished and all the mystery authors are revealed. So in a few weeks y'all get two fluffy shorts from me. So things have been happening but I haven't been able to post them all here. You will all soon get lots of lovely work. **

**Falling's original version is coming along nicely too. I'm rewriting over 50% with a whole new back story. I'm currently on chapter nine (approx 2000 each average) and it's nothing like this story or Labyrinth other than faes and fairytales. It's really coming together and I'm enjoying the characters immensely! I'm considering how I can write in the world more than just one book. It's called Fairytale Apocalypse for those not aware of my alterations.  
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**Anyhow, thanks so much for reading and for your patience! You know I love hearing from you, so any comments and reviews are always appreciated!  
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**Read, Enjoy and Review!  
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**Jinx  
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	27. Chapter 27

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><p><strong>Chapter 27<strong>

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Hot.

Everything was too hot and too bright and far, far too dry. Where ever she was lying, she refused to open her eyes and confirm her fears. A few more minutes of denial wouldn't hurt. She squinted harder to hold off the intense light filtering through her lids.

_I must be in hell. Figures. I know I wasn't the nicest person, but I don't think I was _that _bad!_ _I mean, you'd think I'd earned a break after everything that's happened. But noooo, I still end up on the negative side of the Afterlife! That damn Goblin King had better be in Hell too, or else I'll hunt his skinny ass down and drag him here! _Then she remembered her brother and her lids snapped open without her permission.

"Toby!" Blinded by the light, Sarah felt hands hold her shoulders down. Her struggles were brief as her strength quickly waned, but her adrenaline continued to fuel her anxiety and she thrashed and strained. "Where's Toby? My brother!"

"He's safe," someone said, a woman. Someone her brain wanted to remember but dredged up nothing.

"You sure?"

"Yes," the woman said calmly and patted her arm.

Sarah blinked rapidly, her eyes stinging and watering. She couldn't focus on the blur of black haloed by the light and tried to sit up despite the dizziness making her nauseated. "Is this Hell?"

The woman laughed. "I wonder sometimes, but no." The hands pushed her back down, gently this time. "Rest, you'll need it." Then the rim of a metal canteen was placed at her lips and Sarah eagerly grabbed it and drank the tepid water, chugging until the hands pulled it away. "Not too much, you'll be sick."

"Thirsty!" Sarah said, reaching out blindly for the canteen, her eyes still overcome.

"I know, but it's too soon to have so much. I'll bring you more water in a bit."

Realizing she fought without cause, Sarah dropped her arms and slumped back to the peddle-laden ground. "Alright. But Toby?"

A heavy sigh. "If you promise to rest, I'll see if I can have him moved closer."

Sarah's heart squeezed in joy and pain. He was alive! Where ever this was, whoever was helping them, he was alive! But what about… "J-jareth?"

"Who?"

With renewed vigor, Sarah's hand flashed out and grasped the woman's shadowy arm. She was real enough, just like her voice and her canteen of water. "Jareth, my … my friend."

The shadow shook her head. "I'm sorry, we found only you."

"Found?" The concept seemed foreign to Sarah's mind. How had anyone found them? No one had been looking. Had they?

A cool hand covered Sarah's forehead. Chills flooded over her skin and Sarah shivered at the change in temperature. "You'll have so many questions, and you're in no condition to understand the answers. Please, Fixer, just rest for now and I'll get Len to talk to you later."

"Wh-who are you?" Squinting, Sarah tried to focus, but the woman was still only smears of light and dark.

"You wouldn't remember me, but we met once when my camp traded with your compound."

Sarah strained her memory. There were a few small camps and outposts they traded with. "Wait. Len?"

"He's busy right now, but I'll tell him you're awake. I know he wants to talk to you."

Sarah finally released her grip and allowed her body to fall back to the ground. "Oh god, Sam…"

"Yeah, that's one of the things Len wants to talk about."

"Tell him…" Sarah gulped and shut her eyes, wanting to escape back into her unreality. "Tell him I'm ready to talk when he is."

Another pat to her arm. "Okay. Think you can eat?"

Sarah shrugged and covered her eyes with her arms, blocking the harsh sunlight. Her brain screamed for food, but her stomach roiled.

"Well, I'll bring you something simple. Not like we have that much anyhow."

"Fine." Crunching footsteps faded as the woman left, and Sarah wallowed. _Fine, sure, whatever. How can I eat when I have no idea if he's alive or die, where we are or what's happening? God, I just wish this had never happened. _But as soon as she thought that, she understood it to be a lie. Most parts were unpleasant to horrible, but some were surprisingly pleasant. Like kissing Jareth. Would she want that to have never happened?

She groaned, rolled to her side and tucked into the fetal position. _What the hell is happening? What did I do?  
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Jareth stumbled downhill, his footing unsure and arms pinwheeling for balance. Trees had once stood on the top of this mountain, but their freshly blackened carcasses littered his way and the ground, now smooth and slick, made traversing the haphazard trunks more dangerous as his boots had little traction. Having woken alone, bruised, bloodied and without any supplies, he'd quickly began searching for Sarah and Toby. That was one sunset and one sunrise ago.

In order to conserve what little strength he possessed (already he felt the pervading weakness spreading from his limbs to his core like a poisonous vine strangling him), Jareth refrained from calling out randomly. Instead, he timed his shouts to maximize the mountain's angle into the valley below. Not that it mattered. No one ever answered, and he trudged on, hoping to find either one soon.

_Assuming they're alive. _Jareth shivered despite the overwhelming heat and sunlight, mourning the loss of his sunglasses again as he peered into the angry sky. _Of course they're alive! Don't think so negatively! If you survived, then surely Sarah and Toby have, you just have to find them on this godsforsaken, destroyed mountain. _

And that didn't bare thinking about. Whatever Sarah had done with her magic had burned through him and apparently through the Vultures and the very foundations of the land to eject them somewhere outside the caverns. Magic, at least the type he was familiar with over eons of study, didn't function in such a fashion. Yet here he was, lost and miraculously alive. Hers was a sort of wild magic, untamed and feral and obviously extremely powerful as evidenced by the landscape he navigated.

He squinted into the bright atmosphere again; one hand shading his eyes, and attempted to comprehend the vast amount of power needed to cause the splintered destruction of every tree for miles and the transformation of the earth into a glass-like surface. Yet still leave them—at least him for a surety—not only alive but no longer below ground.

_By Danu, Sarah, what sort of magic do you wield? _

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Sarah awoke abruptly. She didn't remember falling asleep. A hand grasped her shoulder and was gently shaking her. The bright light had faded into dusk, and she could more easily discern the details of the person leaning over her. This time a man crouched next to her, young and obviously worried by the furrow in his brow.

"Fixer?"

"Len?" Sitting up, she grabbed his upper arms. "Len! It is you!"

He grinned and hung onto her body as her grip faltered and she started to fall back. "Yep!"

"How'd you find us?"

"Got lucky with that explosion a few days ago. Followed it until we just about tripped over you and your brother." Len nodded to his left, and Sarah glanced to her right to see Toby sleeping nearby. "'Course it didn't hurt that we weren't too far away, otherwise you'da been done for."

"What?" Sarah half-heartedly asked, unable to stop staring at her little brother resting fitfully. His skin looked to be a darker pattern of the mottled red. How much worse was he?

"I know Dad said to stay at the Compound, but I just couldn't."

"You couldn't?" Sarah pulled away from Toby and faced Len.

"Don't be mad, Fixer," he ducked his head and seemed to shrink into himself, "but after a day or so I got a group together and followed."

"You followed…" she said dully, her hands dropping from his arms as she absorbed the ramifications and tried not to think of Toby's suffering.

"I know I wasn't supposed to."

"Uh-huh."

"But I left responsible people in charge of the Compound," Len said, quickly running over Sarah's response.

"I see."

"You're mad, aren't you?" Crestfallen wasn't a description Sarah often thought of, but Len's entire demeanor defined it—his slumped shoulders, over-sagging frown and air of self-defeat.

"Len," she reached out for him.

"Dad'll be so disappointed. I can't do anything right."

She laid a hand on his shoulder. His rough spun cotton shirt scraped her palm. "Len, it's okay."

He looked up, his eyes swirling with shock and hope. "It is?"

Putting Jareth and Toby out of her mind for the moment, she smiled. "Absolutely, I'm really glad you disobeyed orders. We'd be dead otherwise."

"So I did good, then?"

"Oh yeah." With a heavy sigh, she nodded and lowered her eyes. He sounded so happy that Sarah's stomach curdled knowing she'd be the one to destroy him. "But there's a lot I need to tell you." Len's smile faded. He might not be the sharpest nail in the box, but even he could hear her reluctance as she added, "About your dad."

Pulling back, he straightened his back and dropped his hands to his lap and—in a very mature and highly usual tone for him—asked, "What happened?"

Taking a deep breath, Sarah commenced her explanation of Sam's betrayal—Chet's death and their capture. She did her best to not be cruel or dishonest as Len deserved to know the truth but didn't need to be unnecessarily hurt. Yet, as she watched his eyes first mist then harden, Sarah took pity on the young man and added a small bit where Sam had been a hero to his daughter, Len's sister. After all, he'd only wanted to save Sally not sacrifice them. They were unfortunate, collateral victims. If she kept thinking that, maybe she'd believe it someday.

His mouth a hard line framed by deep groves in his sunken cheeks, Len seemed to have aged ten years in the past ten minutes. "I'm glad you told me," he said, standing.

"Len." Sarah started to stand with him, but he waved her off. She settled back to the ground.

"It's okay, I'm going to…" his jaw muscles bunched and clenched as he turned, his profile facing her, "you hungry?"

Stomach churning badly again at the mention of food, nevertheless, she 'uh-huhed' and smiled a thank you. By her count, she hadn't eaten for at least at two days, maybe longer, and knew she should try to get down something solid. Hopefully it would stay down.

"Grace's is finishing the stew," Len said in a monotone, one hand arbitrarily flipping away from her. In the grayish-yellow dusk, Sarah finally saw normal details of perhaps a dozen people or more working a small camp. Most she recognized from the Compound, but a few she didn't.

"Grace? She helped me earlier?"

"Mmm." He nodded, his head barely moving.

"She seems nice."

"She is. She's been…" Len's chest expanded.

"She's a friend?"

"Yeah."

"That's good, Len." A few moments of silence stretched between them, and Sarah decided to brooch the other subject before he left. Fingers randomly playing with nearby pebbles, even she heard the desperate whine in her voice as she asked, "Speaking of friends, have you found Jareth?"

Len flinched bodily at his name, then he bowed his head. "I thought you hated him."

"I-" Knees drawing to her chest, Sarah wrapped her arms around her legs. "I thought I did."

Lips pursed, Len closed his eyes and nodded slowly. "Grace said she used to think the same way about me."

"Things have a funny way of working out, huh?"

"Yeah. I'll get you some stew and… ugh … you're brother…"

Sarah lifted her head from her knees. "What about him?"

"Grace said he looks really sick, and," Len ran a hand over his chest, scratching at his exposed skin as he avoided her eyes.

"And?"

"Oh hell, Fixer, she's not sure what to think. She's never seen anything like it. The fever and his acting weird." He finally met her gaze, and Sarah could see his new maturity lurking. It was painful to witness. It reminded her a little bit of how she got hers.

Shaking her head, she held back tears. "It's fine, Len. I know that Toby…" She hid her face with her hands and tucked her head between her knees. Soft sobs racked her body, and Len's hand awkwardly patted her back a few times before she heard him walk away, the dirt and sand crunching beneath his boots.

_Jareth! Where are you? I need you!  
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><p><strong>The Queen of Water: <strong>Thanks! Glad you liked.

**Angelus Draco: **Absolutely. FF is hard to keep peeps informed, but just in case and all. It's been an interesting few months. Steady sales, building nicely. Overall I'm happy considering I'm starting from ... well ... negative zero. LOL! But I'm still having fun writing fanfic for now. Don't see that stopping, slowing, but not stopping.

**Buffy: **In that case, you need to wait a bit longer until I get my new cover! I just ordered a spiffy new one (since my photoshop skills are still meh but improving) and it's cool! The cover I'm personally making for the original version of Falling is looking nice though. I'm getting the hang of PS. You still have many stories of mine yet to read, some of then yet unfinished. Yeah, life has been messed up and stressful lately, but things are starting to settle down. Thank goodness! I kept getting emails from fans asking if I was going to finish my fics. LOL! I know. I know. Life happens sometimes.

**Lady Augustin: **Thanks again! It's great getting to this point. I'm really enjoying it.

**meatpuppet: **Absolutely! She kicks butt!

**Angelwells: **Thanks! And it was torture I know. But here's another chapter quick!

**Vampiyaa: **Not quite yet for the Underground or fixing the nexus... As for my determination, well. These stories are in my head regardless, so I just write no matter what. I figure I better a) have fun and share the fanfic b) have fun and make a few bucks with my originals. Who knows, maybe in ten years... The main thing is you just have to sit down and write and write and write, even if it's only a hundred words a day. Just get it out of your head. That's the hardest part. The first million words are your crappiest writing. The second million is decent to good. The third million is hopefully good to excellent because you've learned how to really write by then. I wrote my first million twenty years ago. My second million came to a close this last year... so *fingers crossed* I'm hoping to actually get into the good to excellent zone now. :o)

**mynagoldenwings: **Thanks! Glad you enjoyed it, cliffy and all.

**Autumn O'Shea Swan: **I know you've been having a tough time lately too. I'm really happy that I could give you a small bright spot at the end of your crappy day. That's really what writing is all about (and the moolah of course, muahahaha!) But seriously, knowing that I could help lighten a bad day really makes my day. You are allowed to be freaked but you know I'm good at fixing things. :o)

**Senshi at Heart: **Awesome! Yeah, she didn't so much as use it but released it, not knowing what it would do.

**Hachimanskitsune: **Long time no hear, how ya been? Yeah it was short and powerful, I didn't really want to dwell on the wandering around in the dark caverns any longer. Things needed to come to that conclusion sooner rather than later.

**pinkdiamondlight: **I am really mean aren't I? Lucky for you, I tend to get on one fic and update several chapters in a row. :o) Enjoy!

**Guest: **Of course they're not dead! *GASP* But no, this isn't the fix either. More to come!

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><p><strong>AN: Another chapter! Yeah! another cliffy... boo! I know the last two chapter are vaguely Deus Ex Machina, which I do my best to stay away from because I hate that. But I really wanted to bring Len back and I needed the three of them to have help. It's plausible that Len would've followed, and if I weren't a pantster writer I would've added a bit more foreshadowing about that very thing chapters back. Depending on how I write my other version, I may or may not use this concept. We'll see. There's quite a bit different in the original. So, we're going with Len so of saves the day here, but Jareth is still lost for now. Muahahahaha!**

**And hey all you lurkers out there... yeah you... I see my hits going through the roof and that makes me very happy. You know what else makes me happy? Hearing from my lovely readers!  
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**Read, Enjoy and Please Review!  
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**Jinx  
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	28. Chapter 28

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"Please! Can't we wait another day?"

Len shook his head adamantly while his eyes softened. "I'm sorry, Fixer. We've already waited an extra two because of your begging."

"But-"

"We're running low on supplies…"

"Len, _please!_" She tugged his sleeve harder than she intended pulling him off balance.

"Stop it!" He jerked away. "You know better than me what the deal is!"

Turning, Sarah cast her eyes to the horizon where the earth gave birth to the mutated sun. "He'll be here. I know it!"

"Look," Len laid a hand on her shoulder from behind. "I know, but we don't have enough water to stay another day. We barely have enough if we leave now."

"I won't drink any. I swear," she whispered.

He squeezed her shoulder. "I can't let you do that. You're too valuable."

"You can't make me drink."

"Wanna bet?"

She caught the sarcastic tone and met his gaze, which again, was far more compassionate than the Len she used to know. _He's grown-up overnight. Yeah, well, tragedy tends to do that to a person._ She looked past Len to her brother who lay a few feet beyond. Grace had arranged for a litter to be fashioned and it sat next to him, ready to be used. He hadn't improved, nor had he worsened. Toby seemed to linger in a half-life of fevered consciousness. At least she'd been able to coax water and some broth into him, so dehydration was staved off for now.

Body slumping, she sighed. "No, not really. Besides, you've got the numbers on your side."

"Yep." He grinned, then slipped his arm over her shoulder and pulled her into a hug. "Wow, I guess we've both changed, huh?"

Sarah jabbed him lightly in his side; Len yelped and loosened his embrace. "Watch it. Just because I'm letting you hug me doesn't mean I've gone soft."

"Okay, okay…" Hands held up, Len watched her for a moment, then laughed and dropped his hands.

Eventually she smiled. "Sorry, I'm just…"

"Yeah." He nodded. After a moment, he added, "We leave in twenty minutes."

Her eyes returned to the horizon.

"Sorry, Fixer."

She didn't answer and soon his presence faded from her side. Arms crossed, Sarah glared at the sunrise as if it were purposefully keeping Jareth away.

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"No!" Jareth stumbled and tripped, falling to his hands and knees. Powdery dust billowed and coated his limbs. He coughed and dropped his head. Stringy pale hair, once platinum, brushed the ground. "No…" he said again, softer, fell to his side and stared at the burning noonday sun. "Sarah."

Remains of a camp littered the area—old fire pits, footprints, bits of trash, but no Sarah. Though he felt her, felt the residual trail of her strange and powerful magic. He'd been following its pull only to have missed her. By very little if the camp's condition was accurate. The wind had yet to completely obliterate the sharp outlines of the footprints. He could still find her.

Eyes closed, he groaned. What did it matter? Without water, without food, without magic he was dead and only waiting to die. A spasm wracked him, cramping his stomach, and he curled into himself. How long had he gone without magic? Days? Weeks? Even the small taste through Sarah wasn't enough to sustain him. He needed a pure source. And water.

"Bloody hell!" He dug furrows into the dirt with his fingers. _So close! _

As the cramps subsided, Jareth exhaled and laid on his back to stretch out his abdominal muscles. His tongue stuck to his palate and he had no saliva to unstick it. He might as well be as stuck to the ground for all the strength left to him.

_Danu, is this how I end?_

'_Giving up so easily, boy?'_

_Da? _Jareth let his head sink to one side, eyes still closed against the scorching light. Dirt plowed into his face. _I thought you'd gone._

'_I'm never truly gone.'_

_I'm glad you're here, Da, but I'm not giving up I just… I can't go on. Too weak._

'_That's not the Jareth I know.'_

Jareth chuckled. _Many things have changed._

'_So that's it? You'll lie there and die?'_

_What would you have me do? Crawl another dozen feet to die there instead?_

'_Perhaps.'_

_Da? _Jareth opened his eyes and squinted. Approximately a dozen paces away sat a canteen, upright with its cap on. Forlorn, a ragged white cloth hung from its neck in the windless heat. What were the odds? Dredging energy from deepest reserves, Jareth rolled to his stomach, dug his boots into the ground and pushed. After more time than it should've taken, he grasped the canteen. The plastic was hot, but its weight indicated it was full.

Too warm water never tasted so wonderful!

Satiated, he lay on his back with the sealed canteen clutched in his hands and resting on his chest.

'_Still too weak now, boy?'_

Jareth sighed and sat up with a groan. _No, Da. _

_._

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><p><strong>jsjsjsjsjsjsj<strong>

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><p><strong>.<strong>

Sarah cradled Toby's head in her lap and dribbled more water into his open mouth. Light from the fire illuminated half of his face while the chill of the night crept at her back. She'd have to reposition soon or else suffer the cold. The blanket Len had given her wasn't quite enough. Though having Toby's body heat helped. Several others huddled around the fire, but gave her as much distance as possible. She was still Fixer, after all.

"You doing okay?" Grace asked as she sat next to her.

Sarah shrugged. "I guess."

"You look tired."

"Been a long week," Sarah said, keeping her face downcast.

"Yeah, Len told me about your friend."

"His name is Jareth."

"Right. So, um, you get dinner?"

"Uh-huh."

"So, I noticed you only refilled one canteen tonight."

"So?" Sarah dribbled more water into Toby's mouth. "It's hard to get a lot of water into him."

"Well," Grace picked up a stick and traced a random pattern in the dirt, "just wanted to be sure you both were okay."

Sarah looked up, meeting her eye to eye. "We're fine."

"Okay, then." Grace stood and tossed the stick into the fire. "Let me know if you need anything, Fixer."

Sarah feigned a smile. "Sure."

The darkness swallowed Grace as she left the circle of firelight for an adjacent fire, to rejoin Len obviously. Sarah's heart ached and she gazed into the distance. Had she done the right thing?

Toby moaned and squirmed violently, smacking her face.

"Toby!"

His eyelids fluttered, then flew open. "Jareth!"

"What? Where?" Sarah twisted in place, careful to keep a hold on her brother.

"Jareth!" Toby said again and pulled from her grasp to flop to the ground on his side.

She knelt over him while he continued to writhe and cry out Jareth's name. "Toby?" She shook him. "Wake up!" Others around the fire scooted closer and offered to help.

"Sarah, what's wrong?" Len asked as he and Grace approached.

"I don't know, he just started freaking out."

Sarah and Len hovered over Toby as he became more and more distressed. Len had to hold him down to keep him from rolling into the fire while Sarah tried to rouse him to full consciousness. Meanwhile, the others helped Len as Toby became more violent.

Grace stood behind Len. "Maybe if we, Oh my god!"

"What?" Len and Sarah both asked, then looked in the direction of Grace's pointing.

"Is that…?"

"Jareth!" Sarah sprang from Toby's side and ran to the edge of the darkness where the pale outline of Jareth lay. The farther she went from the fire the colder the night became and she was wrapped in its freezing air. How long had he been walking in this? She skidded to a halt and collapsed to her knees at his side. "Jareth!"

He was face down, one arm stretched toward their fire. His skin was icy and gray in the low light from the distant fires. In his other hand, at his side, was her canteen. He'd found it! Thank God!

"Sarah…" He moaned and rolled to his side. Their eyes met.

She grabbed his collar and pulled their mouths together. Ice touched fire.

Sarah fell upon him, covering his frozen body with hers. Slowly, his arms encircled her and leeched her body warmth. They shivered as they kissed. Jareth's fingers dug into her back, and Sarah grasped his hair, then she pulled back, her lips touching his and said, "Don't you dare die."

"Never, love" Jareth whispered between teeth chatters, "but I might need to be closer to the fire first."

* * *

><p><strong>The Queen of Water: <strong>Thanks! Sorry it took so long.

**Autumn O'Shea Swan: **Hope I don't interrupt too much studying this time. Though this chapter isn't too long. At least this one ends on a happy note, right?

**Dark Angel Millenia:** Glad I could please! I know I'm evil with the cliffies, but this one was a nice one, hehe.

**jetredgirl: **LOL!, yeah I get that a lot. I like playing with different ideas than what's already been done. Then I end up sucking people in any how. That's a good thing. Thanks for giving me a chance. :o)

**Gwineveve301: **Thanks! Glad you liked.

**Angelus Draco: **LOL, yeah, I'm not stopping but life and work and original fic writing had really slowed my fanfic writing. Sarah's magic will be answered soon and I've gotten them back together. Woohoo!

**FingersOfRain: **Awesome! Thanks! Yeah, it's a bit different and honestly people either love it or not. Which is fine with me. I would've expanded this world more but I loved the idea so much I've scavenged the idea for my original fiction, hehe. So more of my ideas got moved there instead.

**Lady Augustin: **You're welcome! Sorry this one took longer. I meant to get to it sooner, but life got crazy! But they're back together!

**Lady Stardust 46: **Thanks! It's been a blast to write and come up with different ideas. I only know of maybe one or two other apoca/laby fanfics.

**FeyFaerie: **Glad you have to back! Hope you like the latest chapter.

**Guest: **Well, you lucked out that my latest update wasn't too long after you finished reading the last chapter. I guess Jareth had something to do with that after all. Thank you very much for the compliment! Actually, I do write for real. :o) Under the pen name Jacqueline Patricks and you can find my short stories and one full novel (so far) on every major ebook site (Amazon/B&N/Kobo/Smashwords and I'm also on Goodreads). I keep my original fiction reasonably priced (most expensive ebook is $2.99 for 98k words) but unfortunately I'm not rich yet. *shrugs* I've only been publishing for almost six months, so it's early yet.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: So sorry it took me two months to update. For those of you who know me on other sites and know what's been going on, thanks for the support. For everyone else, yeah, it's been a crazy few months. Work has been very stressful. I'm a paramedic and I've been given a new partner and station. Things have been settling down a bit this month though and I've had a bit more time to write, hence this chapter which I whipped out tonight. <strong>

**Also, I've been picked to be on author panels during the Houston Comicpalooza during Memorial weekend! And... get this. I get to not only meet Jacqueline Carey. THE Jacqueline Carey, but I'll be on the same author panel as her answering questions from the audience. HOLY CRAP! For those of you who've been reading my fanfic for awhile, you know I started publishing my original work last November. It's been a slow but steady climb as I continue to write and publish and market. I also got to meet Hugh Howey last month! And John Scalzi a few months ago. Marketing, marketing, marketing is the hardest part of being an author and I love and appreciate every one of my readers. Whether you read my fan fic, my original work or both! **

**You can find my original work under the pen name Jacqueline Patricks on every site (Amazon, B&N, Kobo, Sony, iTunes, Smashwords, etc and Goodreads). I'm also on facebook. .com or you can check me out at .com **

**If you decide to check out my original work and hopeful enjoy it, then drop me a line and say hi! Indie authors live and die by the quantity and quality of the reviews they receive. **

**Also, I don't have any intentions of stopping fanfiction, but it'll probably be slower updating. Just hang in there and keep the comments coming. I really do read each one and they do help keep me motivated. :o)**

**Read, Enjoy and Review!**

**Jinx **


	29. Chapter 29

**.**

**.**

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><p><strong>Chapter 29<strong>

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><p><strong>.<strong>

**.**

He was blessedly cool and comfortable. The searing heat and dryness no longer gnawed at him, and he had vague memories of them gradually fading as he was carried. Eyes cracking open, Jareth found himself to be in a concrete room—narrow, spartan and wonderfully dark—and laying on a simple cot. _The Compound…_ He licked in lips, which were parched beyond simple chapping. No moisture transferred from his tongue, and he cleared his throat, which became a coughing fit, and he rolled to his side and partially sat.

"If I didn't know better, I'd think you were faking just get my sympathy."

"Wh-?" Jareth glanced up mid-cough. Sarah stood a few feet away, one shoulder resting on the open door frame. Though her tone was teasing, her small smile was genuine, soft even.

"Here," she stepped forward and handed him an open canteen, "try this."

"Thank you." He managed to rasp and gulped fresh water until he'd drained it. His body screamed for more, but his stomach sloshed with nausea as he laid back.

"Better?" she asked, accepting the canteen.

He covered his eyes with a hand. "I'm not quite certain." Weakness pervaded every inch of him. _It's just dehydration. Don't think about your magic._

She sat in the only chair and scooted it next to him. Not that it was a far distance. The entire room wasn't much larger than his da's sarcophagus, as grand as that had been. Their hands reached for each other at the same time, and though her grip was stronger than his he made up for it by pouring all his emotions into his eyes.

"Oh, Jareth…" she said and kissed him. Her lips tasted better than the water, and he did his best to pull her closer with his opposite arm until her weight rested fully upon him. She tensed. "I don't want to hurt you."

"You could never hurt me," he murmured against her lips and tightened his hold.

She ducked her head under his chin. "Don't say that."

"Why?"

"You know that's not true."

"Sarah…"

"You know how much I hated you." Pressed close to his chest, he felt her swallow hard. "Before."

He stroked her hair and wrapped her in his arms. She shifted until she lay completely on top of him.

"Perhaps," he said, "but things are different now, yes?"

She nodded vigorously, gripped his shirt and sniffed.

"Then all before is forgotten, my love."

A dry, humorless laugh escaped her. "Love. I don't know."

Jareth coaxed her head up to face him. "Don't you?"

She shrugged. "I've never loved anyone before. Except family."

"You mean a man."

Her lower lip slipped between her teeth, and Jareth's groin tingled. _Good gods, does she even know what she does to me? _"Yeah," she said, "that."

Clearing his throat, he said, "Understandable, but your anxiety is unnecessary."

"Have you ever loved before?"

"A man?"

"What?" She pushed her torso off his, then slapped his chest. "No! A woman! Ugh…"

Jareth laughed as he pulled her back down. "Sarah, this is not a fair question. Remember, I am quite a bit older than you."

"So?"

"So, yes, I have had previous experiences with women."

Her face reddened, and her voice became stilted. "Well, it's not like I thought you were, you know, a virgin."

"A fortunate belief to accept."

She rolled her eyes. "For you or me?"

"Ah, for both?"

"You still haven't answered my question."

"Which was?"

"Have you ever loved someone?"

He breathed deeply and held her close. Her heart thrummed next to his, and Jareth allowed his mind to drift. "I have loved many in my time. I have loved my parents, and I love my siblings as you love Toby." She sighed at that. He'd never told her about his brother and sister. That would have to change now, and he welcomed the freedom. Too long had he relegated them to the background of his mind while dealing with Sarah and her world. He missed them.

"Quit avoiding."

He pecked her on the forehead, and whispered against her skin. "I have loved only one other woman in my life, and not only does she pale in comparison to you, Sarah Williams, but she betrayed me and broke my heart."

"Jareth."

"Hence part of the reason for my animosity towards you."

"Me?"

"When I am honest with myself, when I think back over everything, I know my heart felt something for you immediately."

"Really?" Her eyes widened as she tilted her head.

"Oh yes, Sarah love, my heart knew what it wanted before my mind would accept it."

"That's why you were so … so hot and cold."

He raised a brow. "I prefer mercurial."

"Ha! I bet you do." She snuggled close and kissed his neck, making him groan. "You know I was fifteen then."

"Umm…"

"That's kind of icky."

"Spoken like a human trying to hold a Goblin King to mortal strictures."

She kissed up to his chin. "Still icky, Jareth."

He met her lips halfway. "And now?"

They breathed in unison. "Not so much," she whispered.

"How very generous of you, my love," he said before meeting her tongue with his.

Eventually, passion dissipated in the face of Jareth's weakness and hunger, and Sarah helped him walk to a nearby bathroom, and then helped him, limping and panting, back to his room. Having settled him onto his cot, Sarah knelt on the floor and finger-combed his hair.

"I'll get you something to eat, okay?"

Jareth angled into her hand and closed his eyes. "Mmhmm."

"You gonna to be awake when I get back?"

"Mmm."

She patted his head and chuckled. "Be back soon."

.

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><p><strong>jsjsjsjsj<strong>

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><p><strong>.<strong>

A week later and Jareth's strength had improved, though nowhere near his previous health. Sarah spent her time taking care of him and Toby, who was down the hall. Which left little time for herself.

"Is he any better?"

Sarah turned. Len had poked his head in the room. Unable to bear being parted from him for long, she'd been sharing her room with Toby so she could monitor and care for him whenever she wasn't doing the same for Jareth.

"Define better."

Len squinted and frowned. "Uh…"

Sarah waved off his answer. "I was kidding. His fever broke yesterday, he recognizes me, answers simple questions and is calmer."

"So he's better?"

She tucked the blanket around Toby and stood. "He seems to be, but..." She shrugged and shoved her hands in her pant pockets as she stared at her brother. His hair stuck up in tangled hanks, and he gripped the thin blanket in fingers that were far too thin and sallow.

Len stepped inside. "But what?"

"I'm barely getting enough food in him. I don't know how long he can last without this," she nudged her shoulder in Toby's direction, "changing."

Len crossed his arms and leaned back against the door. "What about Jareth. How's he doing?"

"Getting stronger." Her face warmed. "I can hardly keep his hands off me."

He grinned. "Why would you want to?"

"I don't! I mean…" She glanced at Toby, then grabbed Len's arm and dragged him into the hall and shut the door behind them. Len's grin had grown and his eyes sparkled wickedly.

"Ow, don't punch me!" He rubbed his shoulder.

"Well don't look at me like that!"

"Sorry, but what's the problem? I thought you loved him."

She shuffled her feet, then walked to the railing, grabbed it, arched her back and leaned. "Maybe?"

"Maybe? Fixer, you can't be serious. After all this and you give me a maybe?"

She stood and turned. "How can I be sure of anything while my brother might die?"

"You can't be afraid."

"I'm not!"

"If you say so."

Sarah stared over the railing, watching residents several levels below busy at various activities. The electricity was working consistently, so she was able to make out most details well enough from the half a dozen main lights. The location for this compound had been chosen well by the old military and government. Any corruption aside, they'd certainly known their geography. An underground river ran beneath it, which they used for hydropower, fresh water and a basic plumbing system. It was the next thing to paradise.

"What if … what if he doesn't mean it?"

"Fixer."

"What if he changes his mind afterwards?"

"I've seen how he looks at you. He wouldn't do that."

"Wouldn't he?" She ducked and wiped her face with both hands. "God, I can't believe I'm telling you this."

Len leaned on the railing next to her. "Lots of things have changed, haven't they?"

"Yeah."

"So take a chance for once. What's the worst that could happen?"

"The worst…" she whispered. "Who knows."

"Fixer," Len slipped an arm around her shoulders, "just trust your gut on this, and trust him. It'll all end up okay."

She looked over at him. "Even Toby?"

"You can't use your brother as excuse to stop living."

She pursed her lips and nodded. "Maybe you're right. Maybe it's time."

.

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><p><strong>jsjsjsjsj<strong>

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><p><strong>.<strong>

Jareth wandered the dim halls. He'd been doing it more frequently the last few weeks in an effort to regain more of his strength. Initially, he'd felt a quick improvement in his muscles and his ability to walk without assistance, but he'd plateaued a few days ago. Perhaps he should stop expending so much energy chasing Sarah. His lips twitched in a half smirk. As if that would ever happen. She'd release her fears soon. He need only to preserve.

After a few laps, his body shook and he was short of breath. Almost to his room, he paused, placing a hand flat to a wall to support his weight.

_This is quite pathetic._

'_No, this is the last of your magic.'_

_Da? _Jareth lifted his head, panting. _Still with me?_

His father chuckled in his mind. _'I'll always be with you, my son.'_

_How much longer do I have, Da?_

'_Don't think about such things. Your destiny is not set.'_

Jareth narrowed his eyes. _I don't understand._

"There you are!"

Jareth turned. "Sarah?"

"I've been looking for you."

"Ah, was walking laps."

She slipped her arm around his waist. "I must've just missed your last one."

He cocked his head. There was an unusual tone in her voice, and vibrancy in her face that he'd never noticed. Brows drawing together, he draped his arm over her shoulders and tucked her close.

"Sarah," he drawled.

"What?" she asked as she guided him to his room.

"You're hiding something."

They stood outside his door as her fingers slowly tip-toed up his chest, and her eyes were half-lidded. "Who says I'm hiding anymore?"

A brow arched. "Pardon?"

"I'm," her smile was tentative, but her eyes were bright, "ready."

"Ready," he echoed as her hand cupped the back of his head and pulled him into a kiss. Her fingers threaded in his hair, and her nails dug into his scalp just enough to elicit a moan from him. Where had this emotionally forward Sarah come from? She pushed him through his doorway, she kicked it shut and they stumbled backwards. Jolts of adrenaline zapped Jareth as her hands pressed him down to the cot. The metal and stretched material squealed as their combined weight settled.

"Jareth," she whispered as she ran her hands beneath his shirt.

Sudden energy filled him and tingled across his skin. What was this? They'd touched often enough but he'd never felt this. Need washed over him, and Jareth shoved her shirt up and buried his face in her neck. "Sarah!" She groaned and arched her back until her chest pressed firmly against his and their pelvises ground together. "Oh gods, love!"

"Jareth, please," she gazed down at him, her long hair streaming over her shoulders, "I don't know what to do."

If his time in the world had come to an end, if his mission to find the Nexus had failed to come to fruition, then why shouldn't he enjoy the last of his life?

"Oh, love." He slipped his hands over her torso, coaxing her shirt off. He'd been teased by her bare chest in the last few weeks as they tested boundaries, but this was different. She was a goddess lying half naked atop him. He feasted on her offerings; she gasped and wiggled against his hardness. How much was he to take?

He grabbed her bottom and thrust their pelvises together while Sarah supported her upper weight by holding the edges of the cot. Running his fingers inside the top of her pants, he found her front fastener and quickly undid it. Before she could protest—as she had in the past—he pushed her pants and panties down. Sarah rolled to one side, kicked her shoes off and finished shimmying out of her pants.

She was glorious!

He reached for her. "Sarah…"

"Off!" She unbuttoned his leather pants and returned the favor, which he helped by lifting his hips as she stripped him.

"Yes, ma'am." He grinned at her evil glare, then finished the job by removing his shirt.

Sarah paused, her eyes traveling his body, then she touched him and covered her hand with his.

"Careful."

She released her delicate grip. "I'm sorry."

He replaced her hand around him and shook his head. "Oh no, you don't. No more teasing, my love."

Her smile was beautiful as she stroked his manhood, then straddled him. "No more teasing."

Jareth grasped her hips as her moist heat covered him and gritted his teeth. _So close! _His eyes started to close, but he forced them open. To see her aside him in all her glory! He would not miss a moment! Then she moved, back and forth, adjusting her outer, most intimate self to him.

"Yes, yes, that's right, love." His hands gently guided her, and hers balanced on his shoulders.

"You feel so… good, Jareth."

"It is good. How it's supposed to be, Sarah."

She stroked his face and smiled. "I think I understand now."

With a lifting twist of her hips, Sarah shifted his manhood, then reached down and guided him. He allowed it. He didn't help or offer or give advice unless she asked. She was in charge of this. She was his goddess.

Poised at her entrance, he stared into her eyes. "I am at your mercy, Sarah."

"Oh god… I…" She lowered herself, slowly, cautiously. Moving his hands to her torso, Jareth helped support her weight as he accepted him.

"Oh, Danu!" His head spasmed forward, chin to chest, as she enveloped him, surrounding him with her soft, tight, hot moisture.

"Jareth?" She squeaked, face pinched.

"If it hurts…"

"No, yes… I mean…" she shook her head vigorously, "I'm not sure."

"Gently, love, go gently." Using one hand, he easily collected her moisture and circled a finger over her nub.

She gasped, jerked and clawed his shoulders. "Jareth!"

Suddenly she dropped until he'd gained nearly half his length within her, and the urge to thrust nearly overwhelmed him. _No! Wait!_ He continued his ministrations on her sensitive jewel and she began rocking, which eased his way a bit farther.

Tossing his head side to side, he said, "Sarah, please!"

"Oh, yes, Jareth!"

He thrust, hard and deep and she screamed—in pain and pleasure—head thrown back. It ripped his heart in a similar pain/pleasure, but he couldn't stop, not now. Apparently she couldn't either, because she thrashed and rocked in counter time to his plunges. With each thrust, the energy which he'd felt earlier, sparked anew. His skin tingled and his mind buzzed. She followed. She led. He didn't know or care.

Sweat beaded on their skin, shared as they grew frenzied. Faster and faster until a fuzzing around the edges of his vision began.

"J-jareth… I feel … weird…"

"It's alright." He held tighter to her slick hips and guided her to ride him. "Don't stop, love!"

"But… my body…"

He thrust harder.

He had to finish.

Had to finish.

Had to.

Had…

"Sarah!"

"Jareth…" Her glowing eyes met his and in the haze of the building magic some part of him understood too late.

He pulled her down for a kiss, which she returned passionately.

"I love you, Sarah Williams," he whispered as his body, taken over by the ancient magic between Keeper and Nexus, ignited.

Tears brightened her eyes and her face flushed as she continued to enthusiastically ride him. "I love you, Jareth."

The world exploded with light and color.

Jareth and Sarah screamed.

Pain, pleasure, fractures, healing…

Toby shouted for his sister, then leapt from his bed and ran, searching.

The sky turned blue once again.

Jareth opened his eyes.

With a strangled gasp, he sat up, naked, and scrambled from his bed to fall to his knees on a hard wood floor.

His bed.

In his castle.

In his own world.

"Sarah!"

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><p>AN: Well! This scene was a long time coming. Hehe. Coming. So anyhow this isn't over yet, but I've got maybe one or two more chapters, and then that's it! Can you believe it? I've had this chapter in my head for soooo long, but it's taken months and months to finally get to it. I wrote over the last two days. Have been wanting to do so for a while. FYI- Last week I was at the Comicpalooza with a booth to sell my original book 'Dreams of the Queen' AND I was able to get on two author panels. One... OMG, one was with Jacqueline Carey! That's right! THE Jacqueline Carey of the Kushiel Series! She signed my first edition Kushiel's Dart and even accepted one of my books. OMG! You can read more about it on my site www dot jacquelinepatricks dot com or my FB page /jacquelinepatricks I posted pics and everything!

**Buffy: **woohoo! That's makes me so happy when you get all enthusiastic. So this chapter will probably make you love/hate me. As usual. muahaha! So glad I never disappoint! Though I've gotten busier lately.

**Miss Rune: **I know right, finally! Thank you!

**Gwineveve301: **No Toby isn't the magic finder. he just senses Jareth and Sarah's connection. Thanks I hope you enjoyed this last chapter!

**The Queen of the Water: **Thanks!

**auctavia1228: **Welcome from adultfanfic! I've had several readers cross back and forth from either site. That one is freer but this one is easier to navigate and has a better messaging system. As for Jareth's suffering. Sorry it's getting to you so much, but I do have a tendency to torture all my characters whether they're OC or Fanfic. GK is no exception. HEHE. But I do tend to lean more towards happy endings. :o) I know I've been slow to update lately, but I always intend to finish all my fics. Thank you so much! Hope the wait was worth the wait!

**moira hawthorne: **Muahahahaha! I rarely *cough* kill off GK.

**Dark Angel Millenia: **I hope the fashion show went well! Planning such things can be fun and hectic. Thanks for the congrats! The panels were a blast! Thanks, I've been loving working on originals again. I'm about halfway through converting this (falling) into the original with an entirely new backstory and OCs. I'm hoping for a late 2013 release date. I do love my cliffys, and Jareth's Da is fun to write too I nice plot device.

**Lady Augustin: **You're welcome and thanks! This one is a nice long chapter with smut! I've always intended on finishing this one and my other fics.

**nortega: **Woohoo! Thanks! Glad you're enjoying it!

**HachimansKitsune: **Hey! Sorry I made you cry. Thanks, yeah things are going really well. Selling books every month with a steady increase and Comicpalooza gave me several great contacts. Really excited to see what the future brings. Hope you're doing well!

**meatpuppet1: **Yeah! I know... I wouldn't let Jareth die like that. :o)

**Carrie9586: **Thank you very much! So glad you're enjoying it. I'm doing great! Hope you enjoyed this chapter too!

**Angelus Draco: **Thanks! It is nice to see them reunited.

**wondergirl329: **Thanks! that's a great compliment! Glad you're enjoying it. I know this is a bit unusual for Laby fanfic. This last chapter is long and smutty!

**Autumn O'Shea Swan: **Exactly and the perfect set up for the longer chapter. Which I know you enjoyed.

**Kypriothe: **LOL! God I love enthusiasm! How long did it take you to read through to Ch 28? A few hours or less? Awesome! Glad it's so addictive! It is almost finished. This last chapter is probably one of my faves, along with Ch 13 when Jareth found in bloodlust in the compound. That's was fun to write.

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><p><strong>Just wanted to update to let all my fanfic fans know something rather important:<strong>

**Once I publish Fairytale Apocalypse later this year, I will be giving free copies to all my fanfic fans!**

**Why? Well, even though it's rewritten, even though it's not the same story as Falling, since I **

**used the same premise inspired from my fanfic and all my fans have been so supportive, I want  
><strong>

**say thank you later this year by giving any fan interested a free Ebook of FA. Stay tuned for more info!**

Hope everyone is enjoying so far! We're almost to the end! So close! And for those interested...

I am rewriting this entire story into an original version called "Fairytale Apocalypse". It's halfway done,

and had all new characters and backstory. You can find me on Goodreads under Jacqueline Patricks

EXCERPT OF CHAPTER ONE

FAIRYTALE APOCALYPSE

~Part One~

Chapter One

_The blight is spreading faster._

The brown leaf crumbled in his fist. Its dust littered his black leather glove and released its final, crisp pungency before drifting away on the breeze. Kagan Donmall frowned as dry bits scattered. A majority of leaves on the single oak tree had shriveled and browned. _And it's only late spring._

Reaching back up, he snapped off the tip of the leaf's previous branch. Already the blight had passed into the wood. How long before the limbs broke from the trunk and exposed it to further disease and vermin? The rest of the forest looked as ravaged as this one tree, and this was far into the Verge, miles from the Bridge leading to the mundane world of mortals.

_How has it progressed so quickly? _

Of course, quickly was relative for fae since it had taken over a hundred years for the damage to gain this much ground. Still, it shouldn't be moving toward Fae Inlands at all. The Verge's defenses should've repelled it decades ago. Unfortunately, if it invaded the Inlands nothing would be able to stop it, and the heart of his people's world would be laid open to this mysterious poison. He snorted. As if anything had stopped it thus far.

Kagan plucked another dead leaf and twirled it between his fingers. Even through his leather gloves, he should feel a buzz of power for he was the Verge as the Verge was him. But there was nothing. Though it looked normal enough, dead but normal.

Over the years, he'd performed every experiment and spell he could think of to discover the cause or reverse the process, but the only consistent clue was the leaf's complete lack of inherent magic. Fingers of his other hand pressed to his pursed lips as he stared at the dead thing. For it was truly dead in all aspects. Even through an autumn fall, leaves retained traces of magic. But these were blank as if their magic had been erased or sucked out like marrow from a bone.

Shudders raced through Kagan. Imagine! Beasts greater than those who roamed the Verge! Their jaws cracking open the bones of his land to slurp clean its power. A mighty beast, to be sure, would be needed to kill his land circling the Fae Inlands. But he knew of no such creatures, and though dangers aplenty lurked in the Verge, none of his warriors had ever located a physical source of the blight.

_So where is the magic going? Or… _"Great Danu." He released the leaf to a gust of wind. Why hadn't he thought of it before? All these years… Had he been searching in the wrong direction? _Is the source of magic vanishing?_

Long ago, before this blight, he'd warned his liege and cousin that mortals might unbalance the power with their increasing life spans and exploration into science. But he hadn't checked on the mortal world within the last decade. To be certain, he needed to visit the Nexus and determine its health. If it was deteriorating, if its attachment to the Bridge was failing…

He clenched his fists. _Danu help us! _

A chime interrupted his thoughts and Kagan withdrew a small metal disc from his breast pocket, spoke a few words over as he envisioned the required glyphs, then tossed it to the ground. Over it, a life-sized translucent image of a young man wearing Kagan's house colors of black and silver shimmered into existence.

"My Lord Donmall." His aide-de-camp bowed low at the waist.

Shaking out his fists, Kagan turned to his left. "Yes, Brogan?"

His aide-de-camp's image tugged on the cuffs of his long sleeves as he stood. "How soon can you return to the castle, sire?"

"I'm currently in the outer Verge, so if you want me directly I'll have to blink through a portal."

Brogan blanched and his lips thinned. "The damage has spread that far, then?"

"And speeding up it seems," Kagan said, then sighed and glanced left and right as if someone might hear him. "However, I may have finally determined a cause, though I need to investigate further."

"Truly, sire?" Brogan's smile was fleeting, but enough to crease the skin at the corners of his eyes. "In that case, you may want to risk the instability of a portal to deal with awaits you here."

"That bad, is it?"

"Yes, sire," Brogan said, straight-faced and straight-backed to Kagan's heavy sarcasm. "A delegate from the High King has arrived and demands an audience with you."

One dark brow arched, Kagan asked, "Indeed? Did this illustrious personage say why?"

Brogan tugged at his cuffs again. "Ah, no, but I suspect he's here to deliver an ultimatum, sire."

Kagan curled his lips to a scowl while his hands fisted until his gloves creaked. "My own cousin dares to send some lackey to question me?"

"I am uncertain, sire; but he refuses to leave until you speak with him."

"Does he now?" Kagan crossed his arms and thrust a lean leg out. "Well, the bastard can wait all week!"

"Yes, sire." Brogan bowed his head abruptly, his short queue bouncing. "But … he is upsetting the staff."

Kagan huffed and dug his booted toe into the dry, crunching grass. "Hmm… Well, we can't have that. It'll take months to settle my household if he stays over long, and if Cook is perturbed her meals will be off for weeks." Kagan paced a circle, then faced the image of the stock-still Brogan whose arms were braced to his sides. "Very well, I shall return by portal. Keep the bastard distracted until then."

Another grin flashed, then Brogan bowed again, one arm folding over his stomach as he flourished the other out. "Of course, sire. I will keep him well occupied." The image swirled in on itself, then zapped out, returning the area to the desolation of dying browns and fading greens.

Kagan held out his hand, envisioned the glyph for return and said, "Tilleadh." The cylinder jumped into his palm, and he slipped it back into its pocket.

"So much for our getaway, eh, Ravenpen?" Kagan gripped his destrier's saddle, planted a booted foot in a stirrup and swung upwards with one fluid sweep. Keeping his saber, Rinn-Gheur Gaoth, and his cloak clear of his legs was instinctive as he fell into his seat. "And you, Rinn, still silent now that we're going home?" Kagan asked, patting the saber's handle. The usually talkative Rinn said nothing, having gone quiet hours ago as they rode deep into the damaged Verge. "Very well, then."

Meanwhile the large, yet graceful, stallion raised his head and huffed without shifting his stance. Kagan patted his neck, then sorted the reins. "I know, boy. You're as eager as Rinn to leave this death," he said to soft ears flicking back. "I hardly blame either of you. It gets under one's skin and lingers."

Ravenpen snorted and nodded wildly. Kagan chuckled. Ravenpen his most intelligent mount and a trained war horse, but the last significant fae battle had been over two decades ago. Kagan hadn't been able to depend upon fae wars and border disputes to keep Ravenpen in shape as he did in his youth. Ironic given faes' intrinsic, barely controllable bloodlust and tendency to war within their species and with the other Inland races. So investigating the Verge had given Ravenpen an opportunity to exercise, and Kagan a much needed excuse to escape court responsibilities for a few days.

He leaned down to Ravenpen's twitching ear. "Do you suppose His Majesty sent Damin?"

Ravenpen whinnied and shook out his mane with another brisk nod, bridle rattling.

"Blast," Kagan said as he pulled the reins and wheeled Ravenpen to the right. "I know I promised results months ago, but these things take time. How dare MacLir send an errand boy, especially that court-softened bastard."

Ravenpen snorted as he broke into a canter, his bulk absorbing much of the impact. Kagan relaxed his thighs and abdominal muscles, then loosened his lower back and arms as he settled into his mount's comfortable rhythm. He need only give Ravenpen his head—the horse knew the way home—thus freeing Kagan's attention for the portal spell.

Under normal conditions he wouldn't need to use so much concentration to perform any spell, even one as complex as portal creation; however, times were not normal. The wasting effect of this blight had destroyed immense swathes of the Verge. Sometimes within days, its beauty and vibrancy blanched along with its natural magic. Every year spell creation became harder. What used to be as natural as breathing air had become like inhaling water for the fae.

Mentally he reached for his magic, the spell forming in his mind like a child precariously balancing oversized blocks. Eventually glyphs flared to life in his mind's eye, and his hands further relaxed around the reins. As each glyph burned in his mind, he stacked and connected them until they built a bonfire of power. Ravenpen's rolling pace was a metronome, and Kagan fell deeper into the smooth gait as his brain disconnected from his body. He drifted, focused upon the glyphs to the exclusion of all else.

What felt like minutes took only seconds. The spell solidified and power pulsed through him until his body tingled. Atmosphere thinned, opening to the Void, and a portal blinked into existence. Ravenpen trotted toward the wavering in their path, and Kagan—fully conscious of his physical world again—registered the spell's results.

The portal mixed the colors and shapes of the dying trees and grass into a smeared palette of melting browns and sickly greens—just wide and tall enough for a man on horseback. No use wasting energy. Ravenpen nickered and sped up, which reminded Kagan to squeeze the reins or else risk losing all control.

Kagan's easy, lop-sided smile bloomed. "You're far more eager to return home than I am, old man; but then, you don't have to face an idiot."

Home…

Hundreds of years he'd ruled as Lord and Guardian, charged with care of the Verge and the Bridge that linked it to the mortal realm. This blight was the greatest enemy he'd ever faced, magical or corporeal. Eyes on the insubstantial half reality of the portal, instead of the shades of death to his sides, Kagan rode and tried to ignore the throbbing through his chest. How he missed the sparkling splendor of the Verge! Gone were the days of pleasant sun and air, replaced with arid wind, blanching skies and an emaciated loss of lushness. Made it difficult to remember the better times. But now, at last, he might have an idea of why his world was dying.

Prickles caught at the bare skin of his face and neck at they passed the portal's boundary. Despite the distracting insubstantialness, Ravenpen traveled quickly through the portal with sure steps. Kagan held onto his magic with an ironclad, mental grasp. One slip and they would be lost in the Void—victims for the daemons that fed upon fears and nightmares. A reflection of the Verge's source of magic—mortals' hopes and dreams.

Ravenpen's hoof beats clattered on familiar cobblestone, and Kagan jerked at the abrupt change from vertiginous filminess to solid orientations. Releasing the portal spell with a relieved exhale, he shoulders drooped slightly. Magic drained from him like water seeping from an oversaturated sponge. Times past, he'd have hardly felt such exertion. Now his eyelids drifted down, and visions of his bed teased him.

_No time for that now. My cousin's lapdog awaits._

Sights, sounds and smells of his castle's courtyard whooshed in—dusty, crumbling masonry and fresh animal dung, raucous voices of servants and warriors, and overly bright sunlight. Already he missed the murky relaxation of the forest's deeps. The courtyard was everything in opposition of Verge, which was subtly and balance even with its unseen protections.

Kagan's hand crept to Rinn's hand as Ravenpen trotted towards the stables. If the Verge collapsed, those protections would be the most painful loss. For those who did not belong, or threatened the Verge, did not survive long. But with the strongest magics failing, an open wound gaped. Who knew what might happen? To any of them.

_My cousin understands this danger as well as I. _He shifted in the saddle as Ravenpen trotted to a halt and a page ran forward. _But to send _him. _Must he insult me?_

"My Lord!" The page grabbed Ravenpen's bridle. "Thank Danu, you're here!"

"Yes, I've heard there's a bit of trouble."

"Yes, sire."

"Is it Damin?"

"I believe so, sire," the page said and ducked his head as he held Ravenpen steady. "I did not see the Lord McCour, sire, but heard him."

"I suspected as much." Kagan scowled as he dismounted, then handed the reins over. Ravenpen was led off without delay, and the page gave Kagan look of grateful relief. With a growl, Kagan pulled his gloves on tighter, tugged his black and silver threaded brocade doublet down, adjusted Rinn-Gheur Gaoithe on his hip, and then straightened his cloak on his shoulders before striding across the courtyard and up the broad stone stairs. If Damin had terrorized his entire staff…

_The worthless cur!_

"Sire!" The two guards at the main entrance bowed their heads and struck their gauntleted fists to their breastplates. Metal rang upon metal and echoed throughout the courtyard.

With a wave of his hand, a whisper and a quick glyph, Kagan unlocked the majestic double doors of brass. They swung inwards with a groan. Sunlight glinted off the runes of protection and defense cast into their surfaces and polished to a high sheen. Today, however, the glittering symbols brought Kagan no comfort, and his eyes did not linger on them.

Hard-soled boots clapping on the marble floor, Kagan kept a swift pace until his cloak billowed in his wake like an inky, twisting cloud. Servants scattered, murmuring. Ahead of him, another set of double doors burst open into his receiving room. "Damin!"

A tall, red-headed man in royal blue and black turned. "Ah, my Lord Donmall, your timing is impeccable, as usual." With a pewter tankard in hand, Damin gestured toward a table laden with dozens of delicacies. "I've just been enjoying your hospitality. Your staff is most accommodating."

"I've heard." Kagan swept his arms to the small of his back, bunching his cape, and walked slowly towards the dais. Eyes narrowed, Kagan avoided staring too long at his old rival lest his emotions rise too much.

As he passed, Damin cocked his head. "You don't look pleased to see me."

"Should I be?"

Damin drank long and deep, then set his tankard down. Dusting his hands, he said, "His Majesty, the High King, has been most eager to receive your report."

"So he sends you rather than contacting me by private missive?"

Damin feigned a placating gesture with both hands open and ducked his head. "I am but my king's loyal servant." Kagan glared over his shoulder. Damin continued, "And magic is so … precious these days. Isn't that so?"

"Indeed." Fingers twitching behind his back, Kagan turned and stared at Damin.

"By the by," Damin sauntered closer and smirked, "Lady McCour sends her regards."

Kagan withheld a sharp response, even as bloodlust rose and his simmering anger became a seething morass of nausea. How easily Damin pricked his fae nature! Kagan fought down red images of Damin lying dismembered and disemboweled in his dungeon. How lovely his entrails would look strung upon the walls! A festive garland to celebrate Samhain early this year!

Kagan said though a clenched jaw as he moved into Damin's personal space, "You may report to my cousin that my ongoing investigation is yielding results."

The other fae blinked and moved back. Lips tightening, fuil miann comharraich appeared over Damin's face and his right hand flinched for his saber—Gruamach Fuil—which glowed silver.

"Ah, ah!" Kagan pointed to Damin's dominate hand. "A duel then? Finally?"

Damin's hand spasmed, then relaxed to his side. His facial bloodlust markings and Grumach's glow vanished. "You think provoking me will sit well with His Majesty?"

Kagan leaned in and whispered, "As soon as Danu wills it, I'll cut your heart out."

Damin braced. "I am under the High King's protection. You cannot touch me."

"Shall we test that?"

"The High King demands your results!"

The tense moment expanded. Kagan placed his hand on Rinn's pommel and his saber shivered and woke, pulsing a bright blue in time with Kagan's emotions. The familiar constriction and burning of his face began as his own fuil miann comharraich appeared. "I will send them to my cousin directly, not through a lapdog emissary."

"How da-" Damin lunged.

"You are dismissed," Kagan said, pivoting in a swirl of black cloth and Damin's sputtering to walk to his small dais. "Do not return on pain of death."

"You'll regret this insult, Kagan!"

His back to Damin, Kagan shouted, "Get out, Damin, before I truly lose my temper!"

Damin growled something unflattering, but soon his boot falls faded.

_Finally, though I'm sure to hear from MacLir about this._

Shoulders slumping, Kagan walked to the banquet table and rested his hands on the laden surface, elbows rigid, fingers furrowing the tablecloth. He panted and searched for calm. Nausea dogged him as his bloodlust lingered. It unburied his past. What must he suffer when no other fae did?

None of the delicacies tempted him. The aromas twisted his appetite against him. In a flash, his rage peaked, and he swept part of the table clear. Platters crashed to the marble floor, and food smeared over the intricate inlays. The abstract organic splatterings … they should've been Damin's crushed skull.

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><p><strong>Thanks for reading! Hope you enjoyed and please review!<strong>

**Jinx**


	30. Chapter 30

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><p><strong>Chapter 30<strong>

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><p><strong>.<strong>

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"Sarah! Sarah, wake up!" Someone shook her repeatedly, their fingers digging into her bare shoulders. "Please, Sarah!

Head stuffed and ears ringing, she groaned. "Jareth?"

"No, it's me, Toby."

"What!" Her eyes snapped open. Her brother leaned over her, his face creased with worry and new hope. Creased with conscious emotions… She grabbed either side of his face and yanked him down. "Toby! My god, you're, you're awake! How?"

"I don't know. I just," he ducked his head, then helped her sit up; "…everything was just suddenly clear."

She clutched at a blanket that had been laid over her. The rough texture of the wool against her naked body made her want to scratch every inch; instead she held it closer to stay warm. When had she ended up on the chilly concrete floor? One hand cradling her head as she tucked her legs together, she said, "You sound so grown-up. How?"

"Don't know that either." He ran his hands through his dirty, tangled hair as he settled on his hunches. "I feel like I've been half-asleep for years, but still sorta hearing and learning." He frowned. "Does that make any sense?"

"No, but nothing has made any sense for a long time."

"Yeah." He examined his hands, spread his fingers, rotated his wrists, then pat down his torso. "When'd I get so big?"

"Oh, Tobes." Sarah clutched his shoulder, sniffed and pulled him into a hug. His arms were warm against her bare back. "I've missed you so much. I'm sorry."

"For what?"

"For what happened to you."

He pulled back. "That wasn't your fault, Sarah."

"You can't know that. You don't even remember."

"Actually, that's one of the few things I do remember."

"You do?" She held the blanket tighter to her and gulped.

"We were being attacked."

"But I could've, I don't know, maybe…"

"Sarah, it's okay. I'm okay."

She buried her face in his chest and cried. "You really are!"

"So who's Jareth?"

"Jareth," she whispered, then jerked away from Toby. "Jareth! Where is he?"

"Who's Jareth?"

"You didn't see anyone with me?"

He shook his head. "I found you lying on the floor, alone." Wringing his hands for a moment, he dropped his eyes. "I wasn't sure if you were… you know."

"But if he wasn't here, where is he?" Sarah stood on shaky legs and wrapped the blanket around her while Toby balanced her with one hand on her back. Looking around, she exited her small room and scanned the empty hall. It overlooked the main chamber, which was bursting with possibly every resident of the Compound. Many were dancing and singing, their voices echoing. How had she not heard such noise?

"What's going on?" Toby asked.

"I don't know, but I've never seen everyone so happy." A flip-floppy feeling in her stomach made her swallow hard. Something felt different, though how she knew it… "Toby, stay here for a minute," she said as she rushed back into her room and slammed the door, cutting off his surprised response. Sarah slumped against the door, her quivering legs barely holding her upright.

_What's going on?_ _Why do I feel so… empty and achy?_ Tears instantly filled her eyes, stinging and hot; viciously, she scrubbed them away. The blanket slipped loose and puddled around her feet.

"Jareth," she whispered, her head hitting the door with a thump. He'd done it. He'd left her. She was right to be afraid. Afraid everything, the moment he'd regained his powers he'd vanished. Which meant… "He lied. About everything."

"Sarah? Are you okay?" Toby knocked on her door.

She straightened and cleared her throat. "Fine. I'm fine!" At least she had Toby again. A miracle? Maybe.

"Are you coming back out?"

"Yes, I'm, uh, just getting dressed." Quickly throwing her clothes on, the same ones she'd worn a short time ago, the same ones Jareth had taken off of her… _Don't think about THAT or him. Don't think about any of it ever again!_ She jutted her chin as she zipped her pants, then shoved her feet into her boots. Where ever Jareth was, he could damn well rot there!

Sarah plastered a smile on her face and opened her door.

Toby jumped back and flushed. "Um, sorry, I was just worried about you."

"Me? Ha. I should be worried about you." She cuffed his shoulder. "You've been gone for years."

"But not anymore, sis. You can stop worrying."

"No," she shook her head, "I can't ever stop worrying about you."

Silence stretched, and Toby shuffled his feet, his gangly body too awkward by half. Finally he grabbed her hand and gently pulled. "Can we, maybe, just forget about it for a while? Maybe, just, go see the world."

"Oh, Toby…"

"What? I miss it."

Sarah sighed, her fingers tightening around his. "Well—"

"Sarah! Toby?" Len shouted. He was running towards them from the stairwell. "Holy crap! When did he wake up?"

"A little while ago.

Len skidded to a halt in front of them and gastrulated wildly. "It must be part of it."

"Part of what?"

Len grabbed Sarah's wrist. "You have to see it! It's unbelievable!"

Before Len could drag her, she grasped Toby's hand and they both followed Len downstairs. Barely able to keep with Len's frantic pace, Sarah and Toby had to run.

"What's gotten in to you? What's happened?"

Throwing a grin over his shoulder, Len guided them through the crowd, which clap them on the back and cheered as they passed. Several tried to hug Toby, and Sarah heard the word 'miracle' used over and over.

"Len!" Grace appeared from the celebration and leapt into his arms. "Can you believe it?"

He hugged her fiercely, spinning her, then kissed her. "Come with me." He nodded towards Sarah and Toby. "They haven't seen it yet, and Toby is better."

"You're kidding!" Grace released him. "My god. It really is a miracle. Well, what you waiting for?" She grinned, laughing. "Let's go!"

Racing ahead of them, Grace led them up them tunnel to the surface. If she thought Len had been difficult to keep up with, well, Grace had them all running at full speed until they burst through the main door into sunlight that was pleasantly warm beneath a gorgeous, crystal clear blue sky. Grass—thick and green—carpeted the ground and a gentle breeze ruffled her hair. Sarah's throat closed as collapsed to her knees and filled her hands with cool blades of grass. Silently, tears streamed down her face.

"It's … it's beautiful!" Toby said, arms spread as he spun in circles. Many other residents had already gathered in the replenished world and many more had followed them to continue the celebration outside.

"Yes it is," Sarah whispered through quivering lips. "It is a miracle." _Jareth, where are you?_

It was exactly like Michigan in mid-spring was supposed to be.

.

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><p><strong>.<strong>

As he screamed Sarah's name, Jareth's magic returned in one sickening rush. Nauseous and dizzy, he fell to his hands and knees until it quickly passed. He groaned, sat and ran shaky hands through his hair. Taking a deep breath, Jareth closed his eyes and explored the boundaries of his mind and magic.

_Normal once again. _As if he'd never lost it. As if nothing had ever happened. Jareth opened his eyes and stared at the walls of his private chamber, his heart pounding almost painfully. _Nothing will ever be the same. _

With his mind, he reached out for the Bridge and felt its health and strength stretching through the Void, just as he felt the Underground's vitality surrounding him. It pulsed and breathed with new health. He suspected if to the Nexus, he'd find it renewed as well. He bit the inside of his lip. _Sarah!_ What had happened to her? If she was the Nexus, if his magic had been restored through their actions…

"Great Danu!" He materialized his Goblin Armor as he stood, then stomped from his chambers, his black cloak swirling in his wake. If any harm had come to Sarah…

"Alare! Jenea!" His voice, boosted by magic, echoed through the halls.

Within moments, his siblings appeared.

"Jareth!" Jenea threw herself into his arms, burying her face in his neck, while Alare hovered nearby. "Good gods, we thought we'd never see you again!"

Her hair smelled of elderberries and honey. He tightened his embraced, then extended one hand for his brother who caved and joined their hug—with an loud sniffle. Alare had always been the emotional one.

"Brother! You're alive, really alive!"

"Of course, Alare. How could you doubt?"

"I didn't, not really, but you don't know how much we've had to deal with."

"Not now, Alare!" Jenea said, pulling back from Jareth. "I'm sure he's had his own troubles."

Jareth cocked a brow. "What is he talking about?"

She waved an airy hand. "It's nothing."

"Nothing!" Alare said, hands on his hips. "Destruction of the Underground is hardly nothing!"

"Jenea?" Jareth eyed her as he flushed and wrung her hands.

"Well, since you've been gone, there has been some additional … damage."

"Ah." He nodded. "Then you haven't felt it yet."

"Felt what?" Jenea asked.

"Follow me," Jareth said and led them to the closest balcony.

"What are you talking about, Jareth?" Alare walked alongside and a bit behind his two older siblings.

Jareth flung open the double doors of a large balcony of the main room. "This!"

"Great Danu!" They exclaimed in unison.

Below them the Underground sparkled, renewed and repaired as fresh magic flowed through the Nexus and Bridge. The sky glowed a soft pink, a perpetual dawn.

"You did it," Jenea said, hugging Jareth.

"It's beautiful, brother."

"Yes, it is, Alare.

"So," Jenea said with a gleam in her eyes as he rested her head on Jareth's chest, "did you also succeed in dealing with that girl?"

"Oh yes," Alare said. "What became of her?"

Jareth slid an arm around his sister's shoulders and sighed as he admired his repaired kingdom. "That girl's name is Sarah William's, sister dear."

Jenea pivoted her head, and Jareth glanced down at her. They shared a knowing look. "Indeed?" she asked.

He squeezed her shoulders comfortably, then smiled. "Yes, and I would say I dealt with her most admirably."

His sister chuckled into his armor. "I'm sure you did, brother."

Frowning, Alare glanced back and forth between them. "Um, so what happened? Is she still alive?"

Jareth and Jenea shared an identical smirk while Alare turned red.

"What?" Alare asked. "Tell me!"

Jareth pulled his brother into a one-armed hug on his opposite side while he and Jenea laughed. "Oh, Alare, the last time I saw Sarah Williams she was very much alive."

"Is that good?" Alare asked.

"Oh yes," Jareth whispered. "Yes it is."

"But you don't know anymore?" Alare asked.

"I can't be certain. I reappeared in my chambers after," Jareth coughed, "afterwards."

Jenea disentangled herself from Jareth and cupped his face. "So why are you still here, then?"

Jareth grasped her hands in his and bowed his head, his platinum hair brushed their fingers. "I haven't seen either of you in so long, I couldn't be certain of anything, and I've been considering something since I've been gone." He pinched the bridge of his nose.

"What, Jareth?"

"Jenea, would you do something for me?"

"Of course, brother, anything."

"You might not feel that way once I tell you."

"Jareth?" She squeezed her hands. "What is it?"

"Jenea, sister, I need your help."

.

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><p><strong>AN: **When I publish the original version late 2013, I will be giving free copies of the Ebooks to any fan interested. Why? Because even though it's massively rewritten, even though it's got all new characters, scenes, the first half is an entirely new backstory, and so much more!-I wouldn't have been inspired to write this without the Laby fandom and the support of my fans.

So... as the day approaches, and I'll be getting y'all updated, either private message me or email me at jacquelinepatricks [ ] to let me know you want on the wait list for your copy. If you'd like to add it to your to read shelf at goodreads, even better! I'll be able to send out mobi, epub or pdf files when the time comes.

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><p><strong>KieraPSI: <strong>I know, right?!

**Buffy: **LOL! See, even when you guess where I'm going I still make you crazy. Muahahaha! It's all going just as I've planned. Thanks, glad you liked the rewrite. And there's a lot rewritten. Make sure you read the author's notes above. You'll like it. :o)

**jetredgirl: **Awesome! Thanks! That's a huge compliment! To be able to hook a new reader, who generally doesn't like a certain genre, based on the strength/style of one's writing... that's a very huge compliment! So happy that you're enjoying it. Be sure to check out the author's note above!

**meatpuppet1: **Yeah, I tend to love torturing J/S, but I do give them happy endings. :o)

**Lady Augustin: **Thank you! Glad you enjoyed it! This chapter answers several questions. This chapter is a bit quicker coming.

**Angelus Draco: **LOL, thanks! Yeah, Damin is slimy. I don't do much with him in the first book, (hint hint) but I'm setting him up for other things in the second book, muahahaha! As for Falling, no time has not been reset.

**Autumn O'Shea Swan:** I know. Hate me, love me, just don't ignore me. :o) At least I got this chapter out a bit sooner. My migraine finally gave up today so I could write.

**mynagoldenwings: **Thanks about Falling and especially about Queen! Hope you're enjoying it! The sequel to Queen should be out later this year or early next (assuming I can get more writing done. Work is sucking the life out of me lately) As for Fairytale Apocalypse-make sure to the the author's notes above. :o) I feel very strongly about all this. Queen was fully original, but FA was due... even slightly... because of my fanfic. I don't want to abuse that.

**Selena T: **Wow! Thanks so much! Apocalytically beautiful. That's a wonderful phrase! Love it! And an incredible compliment! I definitely plan on continuing writing. While my fanfic might slow down, I don't plan on stopping it any time soon and I will be producing original work for years, if I have anything to say about it.

**holmsie: **Jareth die? Oh no. Thanks again, but I'm leaving y'all hanging as long this time. Plus this fic is coming to end soon, so I'm both happy and sad. *sniff*

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><p>Sigh... We're almost done. I'm always so torn about this part of fanfics. I'm eager to finish, but sad to walk away from such a long story.<p>

This one has been so great. Different and fun. It's inspired me to rewrite it into an all new original work. And it's heavily rewritten. See above author's note. You don't want to miss that! It's just my way thanking all my fans. I'm proud to be a fanfic writer and an Indie author. While I will be selling the rewritten original, any fan that knows me through FF or DA or AFF can contact me at jacquelinepatricks and mention this offer to get a free copy of the original version. I feel very strongly about being loyal to my fans who have been so supportive of me.

Thanks for reading! Please review!

Jinx


	31. Epilogue

**Epilogue**

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><p>"<em>Jenea, sister, I need your help." <em>Jareth's words echoed in his mind as he paced the great hall, lightly swatting his thigh with his riding crop. Time moved differently in the realms. How much time passed Aboveground as he planned and plotted with his siblings? Would Sarah forgive his delay? Would he?

"Jareth," Jenea said from behind him.

He turned. "Have you finished your preparations?"

Her hand flitted about as if his question wasn't truly serious. "You think me a dawdler?"

"Jenea…"

"Of course I finished. Though Alare was no help. He dislikes this idea of yours." Her casual hand became a pointed finger directed at him.

"And you?"

She shrugged, frowning. "I know you too well to argue. You will do as you wish."

Jareth chuckled low in his throat and crossed his arms over his black armor. "As if you would do any different."

"You know I wouldn't."

"Then you support me."

"I support the end result," she said with gleaming eyes.

"Ah, to have such faith in another," Jareth took her hand in his, "sister dear, whatever would I do without you?"

"Be lost forever, I'm sure." She squeezed his hand. "Both the Labyrinth and the courtiers have agreed to suspend all challenges for one year. Not a moment more."

"If I should require…"

"An Underground year, Jareth," she added.

He swallowed his next words, then dropped her hand. "Ah."

"If you fail after that time, then the kingdom is forfeit."

Jareth exhaled through his nose, his lips pinching to thin white lines. "Have they no honor? You and Alare are blood!"

Jenea's harsh laugh echoed through the hall and she threw her head back. "You truly expect them to uphold such Regencies with your return? Really, Jareth! You expect too much of them."

"Jenea," he said in warning.

"They would devour Alare in seconds, and they cannot decide whether I'm too much of a woman or too much like you."

"You are neither!"

"I am both!" Partially crouched, she fisted her hands at her sides. "And they rightfully fear such a mix."

Jareth flung an arm toward his hall of waiting courtiers. "Then they are fools! They should be grateful to have such prowess leading them."

Jenea straightened and relaxed. "At least we are agreed upon that."

Silence fell between them for the span of several heartbeats. Eventually Jareth spoke in a sullen voice, "They leave me barely a month Aboveground to succeed."

"I know, brother."

"How can I—?"

"You will!" Jenea framed his face between her hands, her thumbs caressing his cheeks. "You will. I have faith in you and your Sarah."

Jareth swept his sister into a tight hug, his face buried in her neck. "Jenea, take care of yourself and Alare. And if I don't return before the month is out..."

Jenea finger-combed his feather soft hair. "I know you will, Jareth." She lifted his head, reluctantly, and met his sad expression. "Go now and complete your mission. We'll be waiting for you."

He nodded, feeling his eyes sting. He wouldn't cry, not now, not in front of Jenea. "Say goodbye to Alare for me?" If he saw his gentle brother now, he'd certainly lose his composure.

"Of course." She nodded as she stepped back, hands clasped in front of her. "I'm sure he'll understand your need to rush."

His need to rush. What a banal way to describe the aching surrounding his heart. Without Sarah breathing had become difficult, like inhaling molasses. He'd waited as long as he dared as he repaired the damage to the Underground—both physical and political—knowing full well that Sarah likely hated him for his abrupt departure at the most inopportune time. _Will she forgive me once I explain it was out of my control? _Jareth grimaced. _Will she give me a chance to explain? _Jareth took a deep breath, adjusted the black dragon scale breast plate of his formal Goblin King armor, then tugged his gauntlets snugger.

"Well?" Jenea waved a hand in a shooing motion. "What are you waiting for? Quit stalling."

Scowling, he arched a brow. "Sister-dear, I am not stalling."

"As if anything you did could fool me, Jareth." Jenea crossed her arms, chuckling. "What do mortals say? Ah, yes, just rip it off."

Jareth grabbed the trailing edge of his dark cloak and swirled it about his torso with a dramatic flourish. "Thank _you_ for the advice!" Then he vanished in a puff of gray-white smoke, leaving a fluttering sparkle of glitter.

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><p><strong>jsjsjsjsjsjsj<strong>

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><p>Boots in hand, Sarah strolled through the thick grass from the Compound's entrance, now left unlocked, to the river that wound past it. Sunlight beamed down in comfortably warm waves. She squinted in the brightness, its clarity a balance of a perfect spring day. Gone was the strange yellowish overexposure appearance to the atmosphere and in its place crystalline blue sky and white clouds hung overhead.<p>

Cool blades of the emerald carpet threaded through her bare toes, and she swung her boots to and fro as she walked. Hands free of weapons or other gear. How long had it been since she'd felt this…free? Had she ever?

The scent of fresh water and the sound of rushing rapids reached her before she reached the top of the low hill. She'd walked the way many times since The Shove ended. It helped her think, getting away from everyone, even Toby. Sarah sighed…especially Toby. _Ironic. I spent most of my life trying to get him back and now I spend most days hiding from him. _She loved him, but he was full of questions. It exhausted her.

Reaching the crest of the small hill, Sarah circled in place. The Compound's entrance stuck out like a partially buried broken stick rather than a watch tower. The outer wall's repairs were coming along, but she wondered if defense would still be necessary now that the world was healed. Water flowed incessantly through the previous dead riverbed, and within days the ground had bloomed with life and growing things. Within weeks they'd discovered hidden troves of edible plants and herbs. Had gardens once been near the Compound, or had the world's rebirth brought forth new life? Perhaps both. And now, months later, life grew positively luxurious with food, water, and free trade from roving bands of friendly traders.

Sarah ran a foot through the thick grass, deciding she didn't care how they'd been so fortunate. The world was reborn and that was all that mattered. Running a hand through her loose bangs, Sarah settled into a cross-legged sitting position and set her boots down. She plucked several blades of fresh grass, wove them through her fingers, and inhaled their pungent life. Had anything ever smelled so good?

She closed her eyes and lay down until her back rested on the soft ground and the sun warmed her face. The urge to make snow angels in the grass nearly overwhelmed her. Her heart thrummed with a bursting sort of happiness, yet something held her back.

_Jareth._

A pang deflated her elation, and she pressed her hand to her breastbone. Would the ache ever diminish? No matter how she tried, this pain always returned to chase away her new happiness. _And why shouldn't it? He left you._

A sob snuck out, and she slapped her other hand her mouth. God forbid if anyone overheard her, even way out here. She was Fixer. She was stronger than this. So a man lied to you, slept with you, then left you. So what. That's nothing no in the Nowhere.

Except…this wasn't the Nowhere any longer.

Tears leaked from behind her tightly closed lids. "Jareth," she mumbled from beneath her hand, "where are you?"

Something blocked out the sun, casting a shadow over her and bits of something sprinkled on her face. Sarah opened her eyes to see Jareth, the dark Goblin King extraordinaire in all his spiky haired glory leaning over her—his head 180º to hers.

He smirked. "Contemplating my demise, Sarah dear?"

She squeaked, leaped to her feet, and spun to face him. "What the hell!"

Straightening, Jareth tilted his head slightly, his long glittery head brushing his high collar, as he narrowed his eyes at her. "My apologies for startling you, but I couldn't resist."

"Wh…I…wh…" Sarah clenched her fists.

He sauntered closer. "Yes, my love?"

"Don't!" She pointed at him. "You don't get to do that!"

"Do what?" He reached out.

She slapped his hand away. "You…you, gah!"

"Sarah," he drawled, lowering his chin to his chest armor.

"Don't _Sarah _me!" She stalked up to him, finger to his chest. "You vanish, leaving me alone for months—"

"It's been months, then?"

"And you expect to come back here and act like nothing's happened?" She poked his armor.

Jareth scowled, but Sarah ignored the darkening of his eyes. How dare he just pop back into her life like his leaving didn't matter. How dare he smirk at her! How dare he—

"Sarah," he clasped his hands behind his back, "allow me to explain."

She crossed her arms and tapped a bare foot. "Oh I would LOVE to hear your explanation!"

"You see—"

"Except I don't care!" Sarah turned on her heels and stomped off, leaving her boots behind as she ran down the hill.

"Why you little…" Jareth grabbed her from behind, wrapping an arm around her waist, and held her back against his chest.

"Let me go!" She kicked and flailed.

"Sarah," he whispered in her ear.

"No!"

"Sarah, love, I'm sorry."

"You…what?" She went limp in his arms.

"I said," he brushed her hair from her ear and circled the shell of her ear with the tip of his sharp nose, "I'm sorry."

Heat bloomed from the persistent ache in her chest, spreading outwards to her limbs and that special place between deep inside. She swallowed hard and breathed heavily. "W-why?"

Jareth traced his lips along her bare neck and tingling chased down her spine. "I did not mean to leave you. That was an unanticipated side effect of our magics combining."

"Our magics?"

"Yes." Gently, he encircled her with his other arm and pressed his palm to her lower abdomen while he nibbled her earlobe.

Sarah moaned and leaned her head back into his shoulder. "…explain…"

"You see your world now? The changes?"

"Uh-huh."

"We did that."

"When we…?"

"Yes, my love." His breath warmed her ear and his hand shifted lower on her torso. "And when we declared ourselves to one another."

"Declared?"

He spun her around and clasped her face in his gloved hands, his fingers tangling in her long hair. "I love you, Sarah Williams. I've loved you the moment I saw you and every moment since."

"Jareth," she grabbed the edges of his breastplate and tugged him close, "I thought you'd left me. I thought…I thought…" She screwed her face up in a sob.

He rested his forehead to hers. "Haven't you learned by now that I will never abandon you? Whether for revenge or love, I would follow you until the world fell down."

"I love you!" A crazed laugh escaped her, and she flung herself into his arms.

Jareth kissed her, spinning her around beneath the crystal sunlight. His black armor gradually faded away and his black cloak and clothing lightened to a pale sparkling cream. Glitter exploded. A rainbow appeared, swirling and dancing around the couple until they faded from view.

'_Jareth, we're not living Underground permanently. I have work to do Aboveground,' _Sarah's voice said in the air.

'_Yes, my Queen.'_

Sarah's laughter echoed over the green grass to the Compound, and Toby smiled.

* * *

><p><strong>jsjsjsjsjsjs<strong>

SO! It's finished! OMG! I am so sorry for the crazy delay. I had meant to write this last chapter months and months ago, but life got away from me. I had a lumbar fusion summer 2014 (lots of pain before that, then lots of recovery getting in the way of my writing), then I had to hurry up and finish the second book of my original trilogy, _Nightmares of the Queen, _which I published last month under my pen name Jacqueline Patricks. Right before that, however, life threw me another curve ball and I lost my job in February. So I've been job hunting since then too. Crazy how life puts so many things on pause. Unfortunately, fan fiction gets put on the low end of my priorities. I'm still working on the original version of _Falling _called _Fairytale Apocalypse_, which is 2/3 done and I'm hoping to have it out later this year. I'm also working on the final book to the above trilogy, _Destiny of the Queen, _due 2015. AND I will be finishing _Oh, Now Why the Concern _next. There's a few more chapters left to that one.

Thank you for everyone that's hung in there. And after all this time, I'd really appreciate any comments and reviews_. _Let me know what you think. I hope this isn't too anticlimactic after so much time. Take care!

www . jacquelinepatricks . com

My Amazon page www . amazon - / e / B00AACPHB0

and you can find me one goodreads under my pen name Jacqueline Patricks


	32. Fairytale Apocalypse Update

It's here! Finally!

_Fairytale Apocalypse-The Verge #1_ is finished and in the final editing phase with over 80% original rewriting and storyline based on the premise of _Falling. _Advanced Reader Copies will be ready to go out in a few weeks. Keep in mind that as an ARC, there may be some typos remaining. If you find any, please let me know the location so I can correct it. I really appreciate all your patience and support. You guys are the best fans!

I have numerous emails on my list already, but I want to confirm those who are still interested in receiving a free copy. Please email me at jacquelinepatricks gmail . com with your preferred email. I'll be offering pdf, kindle, or epub formats.


	33. Final Fairytale Apocalypse Update

Fairytale Apocalypse Advance Reader Copies are Available! Finally! Ebook copies are free to all my fan fiction readers from today until Oct 5 and are available in Kindle, epub, or pdf.

Some of you have already received your copy since you sent me your emails some time ago. Others have expressed interested but have not emailed me your addresses and file preferences, so until I receive those I can't send you a copy.

I want to send out more copies!

If, for some reason, you prefer not to give out your email, then it's currently listed on Amazon and Smashwords for PreOrder for $.99 until Oct 5. After Oct 5, the price will go up to its normal of $2.99.

US - www . amazon dp / B00MQH7BWA

UK- www . amazon . co . uk / gp / product / B00MQH7BWA

www . smashwords books / view / 467422

It's also being distributed by Smashwords to B&N, Kobo, and iTunes very soon also for preorder same price.

It's been a long couple of years. Lots of changes to my life, but I'm back on track and hope to release two books a year.

If you decide you want a copy of Fairytale Apocalypse, visit its Goodreads link www . goodreads book / show / 16119728 – fairytale – apocalypse

And add it to your shelf. If you enjoy reading it, I'd be grateful for a review! Fan fiction reviews are wonderful. Reviews for original fiction are amazing!

As a final note, I've dedicated FA to all my awesome fanfic readers as a thank you for the years of support and encouragement, even when my updates slacked off. And I do plan on finishing Concern.

Thank you!

J


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